Open When
by Ariette24
Summary: After moving into her dorm room at college, Sam finds a box full of "Open When" letters from Freddie amongst all of her own boxes. These letters carry her through first year (and the years that follow) in moments of happiness, sadness, anger, and uncertainty.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** Hey guys! I'm back with a new story in the iCarly fandom. Because iCarly is truly my first love. And I was INSPIRED! Haha

So here's my little (not really little) fanfiction about Sam and Freddie and Carly (but mostly Sam) in college and the letters that Freddie gives Sam on her first day. I'll be updating every Saturday so keep an eye out for that!

Read, Review, and Enjoy!:)

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own iCarly and I wish I was as brilliant as Dan Schneider!

Open When...

Open When... You First Find These Letters

 **September**

The thought of living in this box killed me.

A box filled with boxes. My boxes. I didn't even know I had all of this shit. As I packed up the contents of my room at home, finally managing to leave that hellhole, I realized how much I'd hoarded over the years. Which is why I'd eventually agreed to share a towaway U-Haul truck with Freddie in exchange for his help with unloading everything.

"I packed too much," I said.

"Who ever thought you would say that," he said. "Honestly. Who ever thought you were such a girl?"

"Shut up Fredward."

I rolled my eyes as he placed another cardboard box on the floor.

There were two beds in the room. They suggested bringing your own mattress. I couldn't afford one. It wasn't covered by any scholarship. The fact that I probably had my very own disease ridden, bedbug invested mattress, led to my choice in picking the better side. The one with the view.

Behind the generic wooden headboard of my new single bed was a large window that was rounded at the top. The view seeing out to the busy streets surrounding the Juilliard campus. My new room was underneath one of the many archways in the apartment-like dorm on one of the top floors. The dorm was not exclusive to one gender, but this floor was. In fact, I was taking a huge risk even bringing Freddie into my room to help. Boys were not allowed in our rooms.

Though I wasn't sure that applied on "Move In Day".

"I think that's the last box," he said.

I looked over at the one he had placed on top of my bed.

"Sheets?" I asked, more to myself than anything. I walked over to it and inspected the label I'd hastily placed on the side. "Yeah that's the last one."

"You want me to check?" he asked.

"No," I said. "The sheets were the first thing I put in the truck so makes sense they're the last out."

"Okay, great!" he said, flopping down on the bed to the right of the box.

I laid down on the other side of the box and ran my hands over my face. My hair fanned out on the cream coloured sheet the college had provided.

"How did I get here?"

"What?" Freddie said.

I trained my gaze to a corner of the ceiling, squinting and trying to figure out whether or not there was a spider web, or I was imagining worse situations again. On the drive from Seattle to New York, I'd interpreted too many bumps as the truck detaching and rolling away. Something about actually being wanted here made me uneasy.

"You know what I mean. I just - " I paused. He didn't have to know what I meant. He probably didn't in the first place. Since when did anyone have a clue on what I did? "Never mind."

Silence came between us. All I could hear were footsteps in the hall and the giddiness of other freshmen settling into their dorms. I didn't feel the same sort of hype.

"I do know what you mean," Freddie said, breaking the void. "For the record."

"Yeah and what's that?"

He sighed and pushed the box of sheets off the bed. I winced, expecting a louder blow, though it only softly bounced against the blue padded down carpet. I felt his gaze on me but I kept mine trained on the spiderwebbed corner.

"I'm not sure when you first thought it, but you didn't think you'd be able to get here. Or maybe anywhere aside from the inside of a prison cell."

My arm shot out and slapped his shoulder. He took the opportunity and grabbed my hand.

"It's a stupid assumption, really," he said. My hand balled into a fist. "You're not worthless, Sam. And maybe I just said the assumption was stupid, but you're far from being stupid, yourself. You're really, really quick on your feet."

"And how does that say anything about me being smart?"

"Because it does. You are smart. And clearly the head honcho's here thought you were pretty smart too."

"No," I said, rolling my eyes and finally snatching away my hand. "They just thought I could act."

"You're talented," he said.

He said it as if it were fact. As if no one could dispute it. I shook my head.

"Yeah, I'm talented until I get into the classroom and find out that I'm nothing compared to these highly trained snobs."

"Okay," he said. "So you may not be classically trained like some of these 'snobs' but you wrote and acted in your own web show since 6th grade. That's something. I know how to work a camera and a website, but I can't act or come up with anything to save my life. You know that from that robot skit I did."

I laughed. "You know that's only funny because it sucked ass."

I heard him snicker then agree. I sighed and finally looked over at him, only to discover he was no longer looking at me. His eyes were on the ceiling, staring at the same corner I had been.

"Is that a spiderweb?" he asked.

I drew my eyes back over to the web. That's all it was. No spiders. Just a web. Perfect for my box with boxes.

I was about to open my mouth or nod or something, when I heard footsteps. You could clearly hear people walking and running down the halls, but it's a different sound when someone enters your room. I heard scuffs by the door and a light knock before a tall, proper, scowling blonde woman appeared amidst my boxes. Please, God, don't be my roommate.

Freddie and I jumped off the bed at the same time, as if we had been caught doing illegal activities and wanted to wipe our hands of the mess.

"Men aren't allowed on this floor," the woman said.

"Freddie was just helping me unload the truck," I said, trying hard not to roll my eyes again. "We made a deal to help each other unpack at our dorms. Not that you need to know that."

She gave me a once over. Her eyes trailed from my worn out converse, up my bare legs and jean shorts, over my black, slightly too much cleavage revealing, tank top, until she finally settled on my messed up blonde mop of waves. Hey, at least we had the blonde thing in common. Her face never wavered, though. Through her scrutiny of me, the scowl remained.

I crossed my arms over my chest, accidentally causing my bra to further poke out of my tank top. She bit her lip and looked down at the clipboard I hadn't realized she was holding.

"I'm Daniella Maddon," she said, holding out her right hand. I hesitantly took it. "I'm your RA. I live down the hall and oversee a few levels of the dorm. If you have any questions or problems, you're to come to me. I assume you're Samantha Puckett?"

"Sam," I said. "But yes."

She nodded. "Welcome Sam. Boyfriends aren't allowed in your room."

My mouth dropped open.

"We're not dating," I said, but Daniella had already sauntered out of the room.

I saw a smirk play out on Freddie's lips and a part of me wanted to punch him.

"We're not," he said. "But she certainly thinks we are. I guess that's my cue to leave though."

"You don't have to," I said.

"I know you only want me to stay so I can unpack for you," he said. I didn't. "But I should get back to Boston and unpack my own things. I'll see you in a few?"

I chuffed and nodded. He moved towards me with open arms and enveloped me into a hug. My arms were trapped by my sides, caught off guard. I freed them and wrapped them around him for a moment before pulling them back and stepping away.

"Later Nub," I said.

He smiled and waved like the dork he was. "Bye Sam."

I watched him walk out of the room, turn slightly, wave once more, then leave. I smiled and backed down onto the bed. It had been a while since I'd been in a room this quiet. Without my mother doing God knows what somewhere in the house or Melanie laughing with her friends. It was somewhat unnerving.

For someone who very much had to fend for her own and learn how to be independent at a young age, I realized I had never fully been alone. Maybe my mother had never been much help in my life and we'd never really mended our relationship. And maybe Melanie got out the first chance she could... But now that I was gone, I wasn't sure what to do. In an odd sort of way, I kind of missed them.

I ran my hands along my bare legs, ridding the goosebumps, and stood up. I stripped the bed of the old sheet and threw it into a closet before opening the 'Sheets' box and putting my own linens on instead. About five minutes later, my old comforter in varying shades of blue stripes was now on the bed. Melanie's old pink blanket was thrown overtop. She'd given it to me as I was packing up the final items in my room a few days ago. In return I'd given her my old blue blanket that I'd had since I was a baby.

I threw the collapsed box into the corner and kicked another with the intention of opening it and unpacking. The printing on top was not my own. I pulled out my phone to text Freddie and let him know that one of the boxes was his but paused before unlocking it. I dropped the phone onto my bed and picked up the box. In Freddie's too neat printing was my name.

I sat down with the box in my lap and picked at the tape. In all my suitcases and boxes, I'd forgotten to pack scissors. I could probably find them somewhere in this building but I wasn't really willing to ask for help so soon. I eventually pierced the tape with one of my nails and ripped it off. I tore into the box, only to find a series of envelopes.

Oh. My. God.

Only Freddie.

Taped to one of the top flaps of the box was the first envelope. It was purple. My favourite colour.

"Open When... You First Find These Letters"

Oh my God, the Nub. In spite of myself, a smile came over my lips.

I detached the letter and placed the box on the floor. I ran my fingers along the top and ripped it open. Out fell a folded piece of paper and a few pictures. I picked up the pictures. The first was of Carly and I the day we first started iCarly. I smiled, noticing Spencer in the background attempting to put out a fire he probably started. The second was from a few days ago, Melanie and I making the same terrified face at each other, pretending we had seen ourselves in the mirror. The third was a group shot at the Groovy Smoothie. Carly, Gibby, T-Bo, Spencer, Freddie, and I were standing in front of the smoothie bar, fruit staining our faces from a gigantic smoothie explosion. The final picture was of Freddie and I at prom. Since Carly had still been in Italy, Freddie and I made a deal that we'd go together. And after he made a rather lame Promposal using the fans of iCarly, I agreed to go. But only as friends. I'd worn a red high-low dress with a bejewelled top and he gave me a red and blue corsage to match his tie. Somehow, though we weren't even a couple, we won King and Queen.

I put down the photos, remembering how much I wanted to kiss him that night. Kiss him. Touch him. Do something. I wanted him but I stopped myself because I knew by the end of the summer we'd be here and I didn't do well with distance. And that was fine for now. We were fine as friends.

I picked up the letter and unfolded it. I took a deep breath before beginning to read.

"Sam," it read.

"I'm not sure I've ever physically written a letter in my life, but here it goes. I promise these will get better.

"So I guess by now you've found the box and that must mean I'm on my way to Boston. But if I haven't left, please wait to kill me until the next time. I know this is probably the lamest thing I've ever done and I know that you will make fun of me for this for the rest of my life. But I am okay with that. And I'm okay with that so long as when you read these letters you at least smile a little, okay?

"Promise me that."

He was off to a good start, I had to admit.

"I know how nervous you've been recently. I know how scared, anxious, worried, out of place, uncertain, and less than you have been feeling lately. I know that you think you've been super sly about all of that and that it hasn't been obvious. I know you're trying to keep up your image of having no feelings and no fear, and you can keep that up, it's fine. I just want you to know that it's okay to feel that way.

"Going to MIT, I'm terrified that I'm not going to fit in. I'm terrified that I won't make any friends. I'm terrified that I'll be alone. I'm terrified that I'll fail. I'm terrified that I'm not good enough. And I know that you might never say it in those words, but I know that that's how you've been feeling. I've known you for long enough and well enough to know when you're afraid.

"You don't have to tell me. I don't expect you to. I just wanted to give you these letters so that you know that even though I'm 3 or 4 hours away, you're not alone. And that even though Carly is in Italy and Gibby is in Seattle, I'm still here if you need me.

"Of course, you can throw all of these letters out if you want to. I also wouldn't fault you for that. Just know that I'm here and generally, that if you have a bad day, there's probably a letter for that.

"Don't hesitate to call if you ever need to."

I smiled and looked down at the still open box. A rainbow of letters were inside.

"Your friend,

"Freddie.

"P.S. Don't forget to take some time and do some Random Dancing every now and then."

When did he have the time to do this? God, he was such a Nub. But he was my Nub and my friend.

I walked into the small kitchen/lounge area of the dorm room and found a roll of tape, then used it to hang up the four pictures he had given me. I stood in between the two beds and stared at the pictures, trying not to tear up. A smile found its way to my lips once more.

I grabbed my phone and put on some music then navigated to snapchat. I angled myself in front of the pictures I had just hung up on the wall. I sent Freddie two snaps. A video of me Random Dancing and a snap of my face with a simple word: thanks.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** Thanks for starting this journey with me everyone! Thanks for all the follows and reviews and favourites so far:) Happy Canada Day to my fellow Canadians! Hope you all had a great day:)

Here is Chapter 2! It's a bit shorter than the last but I hope you guys love it!

Read, Review, and Enjoy!:):)

Open When...

You Have Finished Your First Day of Classes

 **September**

After having the whole summer off, I forgot how much school sucks. I kind of thought it would be different in college. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm doing math or science or something that I absolutely hate, but it's still work. And I somehow have things to do after the first day. A personal essay all about myself, my worth, and my place in the world of drama due next class, and a group project skit that's ongoing over the next few weeks.

As if class wasn't stressful enough.

My year consists of 18 people. I will be going through the next 4 years of my life with the exact same 18 people in every class that I have. And I'm not certain, but as of right now, I think everybody hates me. They all seem to hate each other. I'm all for competition, in fact, I love competitions and I love winning them more, but they all seem to think life is one. That these classes we're all in, are all competitions.

And yes, a lot of them were snobs. Or maybe I'm bias. But I thought they were pretty damn snobby.

I got to my room just after 7pm with a plate of food stacked high from the restaurant/kitchen on the 17th floor of the apartment dorm. I'd been out since 7am that morning.

Tuesday was my worst day. From 7am to 7pm, I had non-stop classes. Two six hour practical workshops with a small break for lunch. It was the first day and I was already exhausted. Absolutely exhausted.

I didn't bother to turn on the lights. I could eat in the dark and then pass out. That was absolutely fine by me. I slunk down into bed, pulling the covers over my legs. A pair of cotton black shorts and a half sleeve shirt was comfy enough to sleep in. The only article of clothing I removed were my shoes. The bra might be next. I was so tired I almost didn't want to eat. But I was also starving. I weighed the options and eventually dove into the food. It certainly wasn't the best thing I had ever eaten, but it was still food.

My stomach groaned as I ate too quickly for my own good. I shoved chicken finger after chicken finger and curly fry after curly fry into my mouth, filling the void. A part of me was glad that my roommate, Jenna, was still out somewhere. This way I could eat my food in the dark in peace.

And maybe talk to Freddie in peace.

When she finally arrived in our room on move-in day, she was frantic. A tiny girl, shorter than me and skinnier than Carly, came in, basically crying. I had been unpacking for a long time, was almost finished, and had sat down to FaceTime Freddie when she walked in. She thought that because she was late, she might not get a room. I stared at her like she had two heads. I still stared at her that way because, my God, she was a Superfan. She LOVED iCarly. Absolutely loved it. But to an insane amount.

I'd met these kinds of fans at Web-I-Con and, of course, our infamous and dangerous meet ups with Nora, but I'd never had to live with one. To make matters worse, she constantly asked questions. When she saw I was FaceTiming Freddie, she went berserk. And then she asked where Carly was. Why wasn't she with Freddie? Why would she be? She's in Italy. Oh but she had theories. She and some other online Superfans had some theories about Carly being in Italy. Namely being that she wasn't actually there and she was secretly somewhere with Freddie. I laughed in her face. I laughed even harder when she told me that their second theory was that Carly was in Italy because she was pregnant with Freddie's baby.

I rolled my eyes just thinking about it. I was trying so hard not to hate her just yet. I was just going to laugh at her... But it was mildly disheartening that I had to spend the next year of my life sharing a room with a Creddie shipper. As if the thought of thousands of people around the world shipping myself and my friends wasn't bad enough.

I put the plate down on my bedside table and slunk down further between my sheets. I pulled the comforter up to my chin and grabbed my phone. If it wasn't like 1am in Italy, I would call Carly. I needed someone to talk to and complain to other than my own mind. Freddie became the only option.

I had typed out half his number before my phone buzzed. The text notification popped down at the top of my screen.

Freddie.

 _Did you find the letter?_ 7:34pm

 _Which letter?_ 7:34pm

 _You'll know it when you see it_. 7:34pm

 _K_ 7:35pm

I pulled back the covers and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I'd hidden Freddie's box of letters under my bed, my usual hiding spot. Hell was going to be raised if Jenna ever found or read those letters.

I sat down on the floor and pulled out the box. My hands moved through the mass of letters like I was going through some file fax. I struggled to find some letter that applied to my current situation. Not hungry, not angry, not Halloween, not stressed...

I found a light blue envelope stuck at the bottom of the box with the words, "Open When... You Have Finished Your First Day of Classes" written across the front. I closed the box and kicked it back under my bed then settled back down into my previous position.

 _This the one?_ I sent a snap to Freddie.

He quickly responded with a picture of his face distorted, with no nose, as per one of the snapchat filters, and a yes. I laughed and sent myself noseless, calling us a pair of Voldemort's.

 _You are done classes, right?_ 7:37pm

 _Yup barely_ 7:37pm

 _Good or bad?_ 7:38pm

 _Should I read the letter before or after I tell u?_ 7:38pm

 _That good, eh? Read it first, then call me!_ 7:38pm

I sighed and turned on the bedside light. I ripped at the envelope until the letter was out. It wasn't long. It wasn't even folded. It was written on the front and back of a cue card.

"Hey Sam," came a nice little greeting.

"So you did it! You survived your first day ever of college! Congratulations!

"I know that this is your longest and busiest day of school and you're probably exhausted, but I just wanted to let you know that I'm proud of you! Like really proud. Never give up and don't ever doubt yourself. Look where you are and what you've done just today alone. Now you just have to survive a few more Tuesday's until the end of term and then a few more until the end of the year. Trust me, it'll go by fast.

"Okay, now I know you have something to say. So take this nice little letter as a coupon for a free rant. Call me!"

I laughed and dialled his number.

"I hope you know that I'm keeping the coupon and using it all the time," I said.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he replied. I heard him close a book and the springs of a bed. He was probably getting comfortable. "Alright, lay it on me."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:** Thanks for the love everyone:)))))) Here is Chapter 3! Read, Review, and Enjoy!

Open When...

You Can't Sleep

 **September**

The light was starting to filter into my room. The blinds covered the window, every part except for the arch at the very top. I was staring at the ceiling. Watching the darkness slowly disappear.

I knew the sun wasn't up yet, but it would be soon. It wasn't near as dark as it had been when I had finally settled into bed. That was late enough as is. I'd wanted to sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. But here I was 5 hours later, still awake.

I hadn't been sleeping well at all recently. I wasn't sure why. It couldn't be a new bed/new surrounding thing anymore. I'd been here for almost 3 weeks. Yet sleeping hadn't gotten any easier and neither had my classes. I was drowning in a gigantic pile of work that I frantically tried to complete on time. It took all I had not to just pack up and leave. I had half a mind to just do it.

Would anyone really care if I just left in the middle of the night?

My resolve was getting weaker and weaker. I'd though about leaving way too many times the past few weeks. But I'd quit everything I ever tried. This was not one of those things. I would just tough it out and not sleep some nights. I could live with that.

Barely.

But I wasn't leaving. As much as I want to leave, I need to finish the degree more. I need to rub it in the face of everyone who said I would never amount to anything and everyone who said that I'd be living in the street or a clone of my mother or even behind bars. It may not have been the best reason to do it, but it was what inspired me the most. Working against every stereotype that had ever been placed over my head was what kept me in bed, staring at the light and the friendly spiderweb.

I glanced at the clock and counted the time difference between here and Italy. 5:30am in New York and 11:30am in Italy. She'd be on lunch now. I could totally call.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and made contact with the ground. Jenna was still sleeping, I noticed as I tiptoed away from her and grabbed my laptop on the way out. I ventured into the bathroom that was attached to our room and sat down in the middle of the floor, resting my back against the shower/tub. The tiles were cool against my spine and legs. I closed my eyes and wiped the sweat away from my forehead. Maybe the room is just too hot?

I like sleeping with a fan. Jenna doesn't.

Maybe I should just sleep on the bathroom floor.

I shook my head. That's irrational.

I opened my laptop and typed in my password. The desktop opened to my screensaver of Carly, Freddie, and I in the usual iCarly studio. I smiled and clicked on the FaceTime icon.

It wasn't long until Carly's face popped up on my screen.

"Sam!" she said, grinning. "It's so good to see you!"

"You say that like it's been years. We literally just talked last night," I said.

Carly laughed and pushed a few strands of hair out of her face. She was outside on a patio, black tables and chairs with blue, pink, and yellow attached umbrellas behind her. The wind looked wild. Her hair was blowing all over the place and the umbrellas were dipping with the breeze.

"How's Venice?" I asked.

"So beautiful," she said. "You know it's like my favourite place here. Like Rome, Florence, Milan, Pisa, Verona... No. Venice is where it's at!"

"Bueno!" I said.

She laughed again. "I can't complain about any of those honestly. I'm so lucky to be here."

"Yeah, you definitely are."

"Did I tell you that dad's taking me to France this week?"

"No!" I said. "That's actually amazing! I'm so jealous."

"Yeah, well, maybe Freddie will take you there one day," she said with a wink.

My face dropped, which only made her laugh more. I vehemently shook my head, waves flying back and forth.

"I'm kidding," she said through fits of giggles. "But only partially."

"Oh my God, Carly," I said. "No. No, no, no, no, no, no. We're not going back there again."

She smirked and looked beyond her phone at something, before responding.

"You guys are so going back there," she said.

"We are not," I said. "I'm pretty sure he's still in love with you."

"I'm pretty sure I'm in Italy."

"I'm pretty sure you come home in May."

"I'm pretty sure it won't matter because he's totally not in love with me. And I think he hasn't been in love with me since we were like 12 anyway. That wasn't even love."

"Says you."

"Says me. Exactly," she said. "He was 12 and had that whole 'girl next door' complex. He was in love with the idea of that, not me."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I've seen him with other people. I've seen him experience love himself. And I've experienced love here to know that what he felt back then was not love."

"Hold up," I said. "What's this about you experiencing love?"

"I may or may not have a boyfriend," she said. Once more her eyes strayed away from the screen to something just beyond.

"What are you looking at? Is your boyfriend with you?"

She chuffed and licked her lips. "Not right this minute. He's getting us food."

"Show him to me?"

"How would I do that?"

"I can see you're looking at him. Flip the camera."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Okay."

The camera flipped around. I was faced with more tables and chairs, along with a cobblestone walkway. I could tell why she picked this table and this view. She was facing the water and a very old stonework bridge. It wouldn't surprise me if a few people passed by on a gondola.

"Okay," she said. "See the guy in the jeans and the pale button up?"

I searched through the crowded patio until I found someone who vaguely resembled what she said.

"The guy with the blonde hair?"

"Yeah!" she said. "That's probably what I should have led with. Not too many blondes here."

"Carly Shay, I did not picture you going for a blonde."

"I know, right?" she said and flipped the camera back around "But he's super cute and super nice. He's from the base too. He moved here like 2 months ago and needed a friend and then we kind of became more than friends."

"And you're just telling me now?"

"We were kind of keeping it quiet. My dad doesn't even know. He just thinks we're friends."

"Okay," I said, a smiling playing on my lips. "So you're telling me that in a sea of foreign Gods, you picked an American?"

She laughed. "After almost a year here I was tired of the 'Foreign Gods'"

"That sounds super slutty," I said.

"Well, you know how I do," she said, fluffing up her hair and blowing me a kiss.

"What's his name?" I asked.

"Trevor."

"What a stupid name," I said, only half serious.

"Sam."

"I'm joking," I said. "Your suitors at home will be so depressed."

"They'll survive."

"Just don't tell Jenna."

"Jenna?" she asked. "Your roommate?"

I nodded. "Shit. Did I not tell you?" She shook her head no. "She and a handful of other crazy iCarly fans think that you're in Italy because you're having Freddie's baby."

"Freddie? No," she said. "Oh my God. No. Fuck no. Are people actually serious?"

"Hell if I know."

"That's probably the most ridiculous thing I've heard," she said. Her eyes were wide and her mouth open. She seemed like she was trying forget that theory even existed.

I smirked. "I literally laughed in her face."

"Good. I would have too," Carly said. Her eyes shifted beyond the screen again and she smiled. Her eyes returned to mine. "Hey, Sam."

"I got the memo. You're going to leave me all alone even though I can't sleep and you're my only hope."

"You can't sleep?" she asked. "I guess that would explain why you're up so early. I'm sorry, I didn't realize."

"It's fine. It happens."

"You should call Freddie. I think this is the day he has to be up early for class."

I leaned against the tub and shrugged. Maybe I would.

"Talk later!"

"Have fun with Trevor!"

She disconnected and the bathroom went silent again. I sighed and grabbed my phone.

 _Im facetiming u nub_ 6:15am

Before I got a chance to even click on Freddie's name, he was calling me. I clicked accept and his face appeared on my screen.

"Hey," he said. "What's wrong?"

"Why does something have to be wrong?" I asked.

He smiled. That lopsided grin made me blush. I wished he wasn't able to see.

"Because it's 7am on a Friday and you have no reason to be up."

"Uh, it's 6:17am," I said, managing a laugh. "I can't sleep."

"Like you haven't slept at all?" he asked. He grabbed his laptop and placed it actually in his lap, leaning closer into the screen.

"Tonight," I said. "I haven't slept."

I suddenly became very self conscious of myself. I'd seen myself in the mirror as I walked in. Hair messy, dark bags under my eyes, smudged mascara from the day before... I wasn't sure if he'd ever seen me like that.

I internally rolled my eyes at myself. Who the fuck cares what he thinks?

"Yeah I can tell," he said. That didn't make it any better. My mouth dropped. "Sorry. I was just joking."

I shook my head. "I'm just tired. I don't care."

"I wish you called earlier, Sam."

"I'm not the one who called," I reminded him.

He rolled his eyes and grabbed a coffee cup from his bedside table. He picked up his phone, seemingly checking the time, then pursed his lips.

"You would have," he said. "But I have to go."

I groaned. "Seriously? It's still early! I can't sleep and no one is helping me!"

His lips quirked upward and he hid the smile behind his coffee cup.

"You know, there's a letter for this."

"What?" I said.

"The letters," he said. "I wrote one for when you can't sleep."

"Oh, okay," I said. "Give me a second."

I heard him protest as I left the bathroom. I pulled the box from beneath my bed and checked over my shoulder to make sure Jenna was still sleeping. She was. She was snoring.

I rolled my eyes and sifted through the box again. A thick, light blue envelope with a miniature fan attached to it read; Open When... You Can't Sleep. I pulled it out, placed it on the floor, then pushed the box back where it belonged, before padding back into the bathroom.

"Are you in a bathroom?" I heard Freddie ask before I sat down.

"How do you know it's even me?" I asked. "It totally could have been my roommate."

"Because you have a mole on your left leg, just below your knee."

I paused and straightened out my leg, staring at this newfound mole. How did he...?

"That's a really creepy observation, Freddo," I said.

I sat down on the floor again, crossing my legs, then placed the envelope on top of my keyboard.

He laughed. "I knew you were coming back in. I never noticed that until now. But I will make it a point to never forget your knee mole."

"Oh my God, stop," I said.

Freddie stood up and walked out of the picture. I could hear him rummaging through something.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Putting my stuff away. Packing my bag for class. You know I have a test today," he replied.

"Good luck?" I said. "But dude, you still have time. Don't leave me just yet!"

"I was going to get breakfast," he said, popping his head back into the frame.

I pointed to the coffee I could still see on his bedside table. "You already have coffee."

"Yeah," he said. "The roommate brought them."

"I am so unbelievably jealous that you don't have to share a room with someone. Like I know you guys have a whole loft thing going on and you share a kitchen and lounge and stuff, but you all have separate rooms. I want a separate room."

"Didn't you share a room with Melanie?"

"Yeah," I said incredulously. "When we were like 5."

He sighed and I saw him bend down for something, possibly tying a shoe.

"Go to sleep, Sam," he said. I could tell I was starting to annoy him.

I looked down at the envelope.

"You got me a fan," I stated.

"I did," he said. He sat down on his bed again, bouncing slightly. I could see that he now had running shoes on. "You like to sleep where it's cold. And it's actually a proven fact that if the room is cold, a person will sleep better."

I leaned my head against the tub. "Shut up. It is too early for facts."

"Open the letter. I'll wait. I'll leave after you read it."

I sighed and looked back at him. He was staring at me. I hunched forward, aware of how I must have looked with my back arched and chest out, and covered myself. Maybe a thin tank top wasn't the best idea to chat in.

I picked up the letter and tore it open, which was an awful mistake. The seams of the letter burst, spilling thousands of tiny sheep across the bathroom floor.

"What the hell? Is this what you were waiting for?"

Freddie was now laughing hysterically. "Oh my God I did not see it going that way. You should have seen your face."

"Sheep?"

"Think about it," he said. "Read the letter."

I rolled my eyes. "Dear Sam," I read and raised an eyebrow. He gestured for me to go on. "I remember that time we camped out in the woods, searching for Bigfoot, we were all in that RV and it was hotter than hell. I remember you being so annoyed because it was sweaty and humid and awful. You couldn't sleep. I couldn't sleep. Somehow Carly fell asleep. I remember we went on a walk, made tea by boiling water on the camp fire, then fanned ourselves until we fell asleep."

I paused, thinking of the moment. If I was honest with myself, it was that walk where I started to fall for Freddie. It was the first time we had been alone in a long time and it was the first time we stopped and just talked. I know for sure that that night strengthened our friendship. It didn't have to mean anything else. I wondered if he looked back on it the same way I did. For me it seemed as though we may not be as good friends as we are now if it hadn't happened.

"Sam?" Freddie broke through my thoughts.

"Sorry," I said. "Where was I? Oh! 'So because you can't sleep tonight, I'm employing the same methods, plus one. Here is a miniature fan so some air can spread around your room. Here is some peppermint herbal tea so you can possibly feel sleepy. And here is an uncounted amount of sheep confetti. Have fun counting sheep until you can sleep. Freddie."

I shook my head and he smiled triumphantly.

"You little shit," I said. "Do you see them all over the floor?"

"I do," he said, unable to hide his glee. "I did not expect them to go everywhere but I'm kind of glad they did."

"You're such a nub," I said.

He nodded. "I'll take it!"

He stood up and placed his old black backpack on his plaid bedsheets. I watched as he rummaged through the contents again until he found what he was looking for. He sighed.

"What are you...?"

"I have a lucky pencil," he said.

I laughed. "Oh my God, you nerd."

"Shut up, Sam," he said, but he was laughing too. "You should go to sleep. Even if you have to get up soon."

"I will. Do you have any more of that tea?"

"I could send you some," he said.

"Mucho gracias!" I said.

"I gotta go," he said, voice slightly shaking. "Don't want to be late."

"Go out there and kick some nerd ass, Freddie!"

He smiled. "Thanks! Later!"

"Later."

I was plunged into silence once more. An odd kind of echoed silence off of all the tiles in the room. I closed my eyes and relished the cool tiles, the lack of noise. I hated the snores and busy streets as I slept. New York would take some getting used to.

I sighed and closed my laptop. The sheep plastered the floor. They were in every crevice and corner of the room. I didn't understand how they so easily got everywhere. It was like a glitter bomb. I gathered most of them and shoved them back into the envelope, but decided to leave a few confusing sheep out for Jenna. Everyone needs confusion first thing in the morning.

I grabbed all my belongings and headed to the kitchen, dropping my laptop and the envelope off on my desk along the way. I put the kettle on the stove and waited for it to heat. Jenna's kettle was so preppy. Something I definitely would not pick out of a store if I was shopping on my own. Teal with white polka dots. Too much for my taste, but it got the job done and fast.

The kettle came to a whistle and I jumped from a daydream state. I pulled a cup down from the cupboard, standing on my tiptoes to do so, and took the kettle off the stove. I poured out a cup of hot water and slipped in the teabag to steep before heading back to the room.

I directed the tiny standup fan towards my bed, turned it on, and settled down in bed. My hands stayed clasped around the teacup as I sat with my back against the wall. I sipped the tea, feeling instantly comforted, soothed, and reminded of Christmas. I picked up my phone and texted Freddie.

 _I definitely need more of this tea_ 7:03am

 _Good luck btw_ 7:04am

It didn't take long for me to finish and by that time, I could feel my eyes start to droop.

I could sleep until noon. I'm sure they wouldn't mind if I was just a little late...


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** Hey guys! Thank you so much for the reviews, they honestly make my day. It makes me so happy when I get those notifications that someone has reviewed and done so positively, at that. I'm also pretty happy with all the follows and faves that I've been getting. Truly love all of my readers!:)

Here is chapter 4! Read, Review, and Enjoy! :)

Open When...

You Inevitably Hate Your Roommate

 **September**

"This is just so fucking ridiculous," I said.

"Okay," Freddie said. "Hold up. You're pissed but I'm not sure why right now."

"She fucking ruined my stuff," I said.

He sighed. "Yeah, got that. You haven't said what though or who 'she' is."

I paused, adjusted the phone on my ear, fingered the penmanship on the front of the letter. I closed my eyes for a moment, listening to the cars whizzing by, the grunts of everyone trying to pass me. Fucking New York.

It had been a month and I was pissed off with the city. I was beyond stressed out with the amount of work they expected us to do, the amount of time classes and class work took, the group work that spanned the whole semester, the auditions for the upcoming show. Everything was all coming down. In a month. I couldn't believe how much they expected out of us in a month. I'd never worked this hard in my life. I'd never worked this hard, but I kind of liked it. I was stressed as fuck but it was a fun kind of stress. Somehow.

That didn't mean I liked the city though.

Everyone in the program was so enamoured with the city and so excited to possibly be working here on Broadway or in some movie or show. I didn't like it. It was a city. I didn't see the draw. I missed the rain. I'm notorious for not giving things a chance, though. That's what Carly and Freddie and even Spencer keep telling me.

I'm not giving New York a chance.

I'm not giving the program a chance.

I'm not giving Jenna a chance.

But I'm not one for second chances...

A car skidded to a stop, mashing down on his horn as he crashed into the truck in front. The sound of screeching metal echoing through the momentarily silent street. Everyone turned to look, then turned away, as if this was commonplace.

I stared at the crushed bumpers of the cars. A burly man had gotten out of the pickup truck and was banging on the car's window. I faced forward and began walking again.

"Sam?" Freddie said. "Sam? What was that? Where are you?"

"I'm on Broadway somewhere," I said.

"Like the street?" he asked.

"No, I'm staring in a fucking show. What do you think?"

"So you're angrily walking around the streets of New York, at almost 9pm, all alone?"

"I swear to God, Freddie, if this is some lecture about me not being able to handle myself, I will personally come to Boston and kick your ass," I said. I noticed a man in a suit raise his eyebrow as he passed by.

I heard Freddie laugh. "As long as you got that butter sock."

"I don't leave home without it," I said.

I looked around, tired of walking, tired of talking, just tired.

It was Tuesday, my longest day of classes. It also happened to be the worst day I'd had here so far.

I'd gotten overwhelmed in class trying to remember lines and movements and not let people down, which led to me almost crying. Something I pride myself on never doing in public. Never under any circumstance will anyone see me cry. I had to step out and grab a glass of water. No one came and talked to me. No one came and asked if I was alright. In fact, some people laughed. And maybe, if it were happening to someone else, I would have laughed too. But they were laughing because they expected us, one by one, to crack. They weeded out the weak and kept the strong.

I was determined to be strong.

But the hits kept coming.

Carly called on my lunch break, pissed off that I hadn't tried to stop the rumours that Jenna was now circulating. I didn't know what to say. Save for physically beating Jenna with the butter sock and possibly getting kicked out of school, I didn't know how to stop her. I also didn't know why Carly was so upset. We'd had rumours fly before and we'd had shipping wars lots of times before. I figured it had something to do with Trevor. He must have believed the Freddie x Carly baby rumours. But why? Maybe he didn't believe them, maybe he just thought they were a bit much.

And they were.

By the time I got back to the room, I was pissed at Jenna. I had so much I wanted to say to her. I had so many words and insults to throw at her face instead of my hands. But I didn't expect to be speechless.

She wasn't home, but I knew what she did.

"Sam?" Freddie said again.

"Sorry. I'm trying to find somewhere to sit. I'm just so tired of this shit."

"What's going on? Do you need to come down to Boston and kick my ass?" he said it with a laugh, but his voice broke midway through. He was worried about me.

"I'm fine," I said.

"So you called me to tell me you were fine?"

I sighed and looked around the street. The wind whipped around my hair and blew feedback into the phone. I held it away from my ear for a moment and took a deep breath.

"No. I called because I needed someone to be angry at or with or calm me down or make sure I don't actually cry."

It sounded like he dropped something on the other end of the line. "You're crying?"

"Not yet," I said, irritation creeping into my voice. "Keep it up and I won't."

"Keep up being myself...?"

"You know how it works, Fredward," I said.

"Sam," he said. I heard springs bounce on the other end of the line. He must have settled on his bed. "Are you actually crying?"

I spotted a Starbucks and quickly crossed the street. I walked in and sat down near the back of the store, the only seat. I put my head in my hands and slapped the letter down on the table.

"I'm trying so hard not to right now."

Freddie had never seen me cry. Freddie had never heard me cry. Freddie probably didn't even know that was an emotion I was capable of.

There were two people who had seen me cry in the past few years. Melanie and Carly. I hadn't planned on ever having anyone else see me that way, or, for that matter, hear me.

But now, here I was, in a Starbucks in central New York, on the phone with Freddie Benson, on the verge of tears.

"I'm fine," I said, my voice betraying me.

"You're not," he said. "What's wrong?"

"Honestly, it's fine, Freddie. I'm fine."

"Sam," he said. I'd never heard my name spoken that way by him. It was a warning. A very clear indication that I wasn't allowed to shy away from my feelings.

I said nothing. I listened to his breathing on the other end of the phone.

"Sam," he said. It came out softer this time. The word reminded me of when we were dating and we tried to be so careful with each other. But that form of care didn't work. We lost our dynamic.

Even though I wish we hadn't. I wished every day that we were mature enough to stay together.

"Carly isn't talking to me right now," I said. That was just the tip of the iceberg.

"Why?" he asked.

I shook my head, ponytail brushing the top of my shoulders. All I wanted was some semblance of normalcy. My whole world had been shaken just within this day.

"She said she's not going to talk to me until I fix things with Jenna," I said.

"What needs to be fixed? Like she wants you to be friends with Jenna? Isn't that a little unrealistic?" Freddie asked.

"She knows I probably won't be friends with her. She -"

"Well that's a given. I feel like whoever you live with, you'll wind up hating."

"Hey!" I said. "That's very true. But I have so many reasons with Jenna."

"Including the fact that she's crazy!" He laughed. "So what does Carly want you to fix?"

"The weird baby rumours that Jenna's been spreading. Jenna's been saying online that I've confirmed them. Carly is pissed that I haven't stopped Jenna. She's also pissed that anyone would even believe it."

"I wouldn't believe it. But then again, I'm bias and know for a fact that I've only had sex with one person and that person wasn't Carly."

"Carly doesn't know that, though," I said.

"She doesn't?"

"Carly is a bit of a prude. Why would I tell her?"

"Because you guys are like best friends."

"Does that mean you told Gibby?" I asked.

"That's beside the point," he said, attempting to laugh it off. "How does she expect you to fix it?"

I blinked. The nub told Gibby. Gibby is the most immature person I know. Why would he tell Gibby?

"I don't know."

"Is that why you're so upset?" he asked.

"Only part of the reason," I said.

"So what else?"

"It's going to sound really petty and stupid and I know you know how petty and stupid I am -"

"Sam, I -"

"I know I am," I said.

I looked at the letter. Freddie's perfect printing covered the front. 'Open When... You Inevitably Hate Your Roommate'

I do. Oh God, I do. I tried so hard not to. But I knew it wasn't all that petty, in the end. I knew that once you ruin someone's things, even if it was just a memory, that you're not being petty or stupid in your anger.

"Jenna ripped up my pictures," I said.

"What? Why?" Freddie asked.

"She ripped up specific pictures," I said. "I came back to the room and the picture of you and I at prom, and you and I after the last iCarly show, and you and I at grad, and you and I from that one Christmas it snowed, were all in pieces on the floor. No other pictures. There were just spaces where she ripped these ones off and all the others were still up there."

Freddie was silent.

I sighed. I grabbed the letter, balanced my phone between my ear and my shoulder, and ripped it open. I'd slipped the pieces of paper out of the envelope by the time Freddie responded.

"Why?" he asked.

I thought about the set of his jaw when he was angry. The slight twitch of his right bicep. The strain in his voice.

His voice was strained. He was trying hard not to show his anger.

"Freddie," I whispered.

I swallowed. I had to tread lightly. I couldn't do this.

"Because she's fucking crazy," I whispered once more. "She's psycho. She has a collage of you and Carly. She thinks I don't know but it's under her bed and I've seen her stuff it under there when I've entered the room."

"Sam," he said. "This isn't good. Can you switch rooms?"

"Why should I have to switch rooms because she's batshit crazy?"

"Because I feel like tearing up your pictures is only the beginning."

"What?" I said. "You think she's going to off me?"

Silence.

"No."

"You think she's going to kill me!"

"No I don't," he said, laughing lightly. "I just think she could potentially do other things."

"Well then she should potentially know that I could do worse things."

"If she's as hardcore an iCarly fan as she claims she is, then she would know."

"She doesn't give a shit about me," I said. "She may have been excited I was her roommate for like a second, but she doesn't care. It's literally all about you and Carly for her. I don't matter. It's all about Creddie."

"Well fuck that," Freddie said.

"Did you just say fuck?"

"Yes," he said. "And I mean it too. It's a stupid ship, or whatever it's called. You guys are my friends. I don't have feelings for Carly. I haven't thought about her that way in years. She's my friend and I wish people would realize that."

It took me a while to form an answer in my mind. To get over the fact that he probably didn't feel the way I did about him.

"That's probably my bad," I said.

"What is?"

"The fact that people think you have feelings for Carly," I groaned at the thought of my stupidity. "At Web-I-Con when I said that you and Carly were madly in love with each other."

"Yeah but half those people didn't believe that," he said.

"And half did," I replied.

I heard him mumble something on the other end of the phone, before he told me directly he'd be back in a second. I gave my okay and put my phone down on the table and tapped it to speaker phone. All that could be heard from it was static, but it was only barely audible over the busy chatter and folksy music in the coffee shop.

I shuffled the papers that were in the envelope and found a picture.

It was of Freddie. His graduation picture. He looked like such a dork with his cap sliding down his forehead, and his smile just a little too wide. The robes were just a smidge too big for him, the sleeve pooling at his hand where he held the diploma.

I narrowed my eyes at it, confused as to why it was in this particular envelope. I flipped it over. Scrawled on the back in cursive were the words: "If ever you need to displace your hatred or anger to someone other than your weird/crazy/annoying/etc roommate, just hate on this photo."

I laughed. I could do that easily.

I unfolded the letter and glanced down at the well thought out, bolded, all capital, bubble letters.

"FUCK HER"

And just like that, I was hysterically laughing in a Starbucks in the middle of New York City. I didn't care that everyone in the coffee shop was now staring at me like I had five heads. This was too good.

Freddie had so eloquently and in the best way possible told me that Jenna was not worth my time or anger. Freddie had, in a way, told me that he was worth my time and, by default, anger. Freddie, the most innocent boy in the world, who I admit I corrupted just a bit, had told me that the best course of action was telling this girl to fuck off. In those words.

And he was right.

Fuck her. She can fuck right off.

By the time Freddie came back on the line, I was still laughing.

"So you've gone crazy, then? I knew this day would come," Freddie said, a laugh present in his tone.

"No," I said, breathless. I knew he wouldn't be entirely clear on my next words, but I also knew, on some level, he would understand. "Thank you."


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:** Hey guys! I'm so sorry for missing last Saturday. I was away for the weekend and didn't get a chance to post! Here is chapter 5, though!

Anywayyyyy, I'd just like to carry on thanking everyone who has been giving me these awesome reviews, favouriting my story even though it's barely begun, and following it for more to come! Seriously, thank you! Also, thanks to my recent reviewers who are saying my characterization is on point. I'm so glad you guys think that! I've been trying so hard to get that feel to this. :)

I hope you continue to enjoy the story as it goes on! Here is chapter 5. Read, Review, and Enjoy!

Open When...

You Feel Out of Place

 **October**

I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, covers pulled up to my chin. It was 9am. I had class in an hour. I wasn't getting up.

Jenna had left an hour ago. Thank God. All of her music classes started at 8am. Or maybe she just liked leaving at 8 every day. I couldn't complain. The less I saw her, the better.

I'd taken to ignoring her and she'd taken to staying out all day and night. She had about a hundred friends already. I'd managed to make one friend in my program. And it was only a person I might call a friend. Ashley and I were both just on the outskirts of the program. No where near the caliber of training all the other students had, so we'd formed a bond. But that bond just stayed within the bounds of the classroom. Aside from Ashley, I'd made one other friend. Another music major who Jenna had brought around.

His name was Flynn and admittedly, he was gorgeous. I started talking to him when he hung around the room at the beginning of September, and then we hung out just on our own. He had a girlfriend, and if I was being honest with myself, I still maybe, kind of, had feelings for Freddie. So our relationship was strictly just friendship.

But he seemed like a nice guy with an air of mystery, so I felt comfortable with maybe being his friend. Leather jacket, tall, dark hair, and a slightly crooked smile. It took me a few weeks to figure out that I was attracted to him because he looked like a taller Freddie. I just felt weird about it.

And then I avoided him.

So I was back down to my one, maybe, friend from class. I never realized how lonely I would be here. I knew I wasn't the best at making new friends, especially because I judge first and think later, but I thought by now I'd have some sort of group. If I hadn't ruined things. Again.

I stared at the spiderweb above Jenna's bed. It entertained me way too much that it was still there and she still hadn't seen it. I'd even seen the tiny little black spider creeping up his web just above her head. I no longer cared if it fell on her in her sleep. In fact, I kind of wanted it to.

I turned away from that side of the room and faced my disorganized picture wall. I reached out to the spaces where Jenna had stolen and wrecked my photos. It burned me up inside every time I thought about that. But I'd sworn I'd be good and I was taking Freddie's advice. Fuck that. She's not worth my time.

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep but my thoughts drifted away from me.

I didn't belong here.

I tried so hard to fit in, or at least pretend like I knew what I was doing everyday, but I always felt so out of place. Normally that wouldn't bug me. Normally I'd embrace the fact that no one else was like me and that's why I was here... Though it seemed like everyone here wanted a specific type.

And I wasn't that type.

I didn't have Shakespearian training.

I didn't go to theatre school for elementary school or high school.

I didn't take drama lessons and do drama camps as extra curricular's when I was a kid.

I didn't have any starring roles or funny drama kid stories.

All I had was a webshow. And it wasn't even my webshow.

They all had so much in common with each other. I was the outsider. Maybe I was the outsider in most situations, but when you're in a new city with new people and a new life, being the outsider isn't the most comforting feeling in the world.

I hated to admit it, but I was scared that everything was going wrong.

Carly had told me the other night that everyone here seemed so impressive. All the people I knew had accomplished so much in their 18 years and I had a webshow. Carly claimed that I had a leg up by being on iCarly, but I could tell she didn't really believe that. She was much more preoccupied in praising the other students and their accomplishments over mine. That wouldn't normally hurt. I didn't normally need to be praised by other people. For some reason though, being in college was making me so self conscious.

Maybe it was because this was the first time I had ever had to work for something and work to keep it. Somehow, someone high up there in the administration decided I was worthy of a scholarship. Given the fact that I'd only ever had one part time job over the summer, had little to no money, never thought I would even get into a school, and had barely any support from home, I had no intention of losing the scholarship. But the amount of money and exemption they gave you was dependent on how well you did that year. As of right now, I had a full scholarship, which included the room. I didn't know how I did it. My grades at Ridgeway weren't any indication or proof of me doing well in any institution. But apparently they loved iCarly, they loved my auditions, and they loved the essay I wrote. The essay I wrote and had Carly proof because I was too embarrassed to let Freddie read my personal thoughts on my life's journey.

Now that I was here, I hoped they didn't think that my essay was bullshit. I meant everything I said in it. That I was passionate about acting, and comedy, and coming up with material. That I had been the main contributor of comedic sketches on iCarly. That my mother had been a constant somewhat abusive figure in my life and my father was an absentee. That I didn't want to end up like either of them. That I had done some shitty and stupid things in my past but this was what I wanted to do. This is how I wanted to turn my life around and actually have some kind of direction.

My sense of direction was fading and fast, though. I dreaded today. We got our first grades back today. I hoped beyond all hope it was a good one, but I wasn't sure. If the past few weeks had taught me anything, it was that I had to work extra hard to do well here, and sometimes even that work didn't pay off.

I rolled back to face Jenna's bed and felt around for my phone. If I was going to class, I had to leave soon. My phone buzzed as I picked it up. A text from Freddie.

 _You had a test today or something, didn't you?_ 9:36am

 _No_ 9:36am

 _Then what was it?_ 9:37am

 _Nothing_ 9:37am

 _Are you ok?_ 9:37am

 _I'm fine_ 9:37am

I groaned and pushed myself out of bed. I sat on the edge and ran my hands along my bare legs. It would be time to switch to pyjama pants soon. My phone buzzed again. Still Freddie.

 _You're not. All those one word answers tell a different story._ 9:38am

 _Yup_ 9:38am

 _What's wrong?_ 9:39am

 _Nothing_ 9:39am

 _Sam..._ 9:39am

I pursed my lips and hesitated over the keyboard. I typed out a message, then erased it all three different times. I wasn't sure how to put what I was feeling into words and was even less sure that I wanted to tell him.

 _I guess I'm feeling uncertain and nervous and feel like I don't really match up to anyone here which isn't false because they're all such actors and I'm just a teenager who's been to juvie that has a webshow that isn't even mine_ 9:42am

 _... Can I call you?_ 9:42am

Shit. I hadn't meant to sound so desperate. I waited too long to respond and soon my phone was ringing.

"No," I said, answering the phone.

"Sam, I -" Freddie said.

"No," I interrupted.

"Sam."

"No."

"Sam, seriously?" he said.

"Okay, fine. What?" I said.

I heard him groan. "Do you always have to be difficult?"

"Is that really what you want to ask me?"

"No," he said. "Why are you feeling like this?"

"Because I am."

"Well it's not true," he said. "You're there on full scholarship, so you're not worthless or whatever."

"That means nothing at this point."

"Have you lost the scholarship?" he asked.

"No," I said. "But that doesn't mean I won't lose it."

Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. He doesn't need to know this. No one needs to know this. This is not you, Samantha Puckett.

"Never mind," I said, interrupting him because I hadn't been listening. "College is bringing out the worst in me. But I swear I'm fine."

"Okay," he said. Silence followed his last word, though I could tell he wanted to say something else. "Okay. Well I have to get to class. I sent you something, okay? It'll probably get there today. Call me later?"

"Sure."

He hung up. I bit my lip. I was officially late for class. And I really wanted to not care, but I was probably becoming more of an outsider by not showing up.

I stood up and began walking over to my closet. The edge of the letter box peeking out from beneath my bed caught my eye as I walked away. Freddie sent me something. Maybe there was a letter in the box that would lend well to my current situation. I bent down and sat on the carpet that had no cushion left and pulled out the box. The cardboard was starting to fray from the opening and closing of it. I could only imagine how it would no longer be in tact by the end of the year.

A black letter stood out to me and I pulled it from the box. "Open When... You Feel Out of Place." Bingo.

I closed the box and kicked it back underneath my bed before tearing into the letter. A series of papers came out in a bunch. They had been stapled together.

On the first paper Freddie had written: "So you're feeling a little monochopsis (the sudden and persistent feeling of being out of place). I know you're going to give me hell for using that word, but it was just too interesting to pass up. I'm sorry you feel that way. I've taken it upon myself to prove to you that you are not out of place. You belong where you belong."

I rolled my eyes. Starting off cheesy. This was going to be great. I flipped to the next page of the little bundle.

"'She's standing on a line between giving up and seeing how much she can take.' -Unknown."

I flipped to the third page.

"'Understand me. I'm not like an ordinary world. I have my madness, I live in another dimension and I do not have time for things that have no soul.' - Charles Bukowski."

I flipped to the fourth page.

"'She was never on the same page as the people around her. Sometimes ahead, sometimes behind. Always in a different chapter, sometimes even in a completely different book.' - MHA."

I flipped to the fifth page.

"'She was beautifully out of place. Sometimes I believe she intended to be. Like the moon during the day.' - D.R."

The quotes seemed to get more and more personal. By the time I got to the last one, I lost my breath. Out of place and beautiful were two things I never thought to put together, but it resonated somewhere within me, and clearly it had for Freddie too.

The sixth and final page turned into Freddie's printing again.

"I know you won't admit to me that you're feeling this way. I'm not sure if you'll admit it to Carly either. I know you like to pretend that you can handle everything and I believe that you can, I just think sometimes you need a helping hand. If you're feeling out of place, then talk to me. Or talk to Carly. Just don't stay silent. You're hurting yourself more by pretending that you're big than being weak for a second and coming out stronger. You're the strongest person I know, Sam, but you're entitled to a moment of weakness and you're entitled to your feelings.

"You're one of my best friends and I really hope you trust me enough to talk to me. Reread the quotes I gave you, hang them up, reread this note. YOU ARE MEANT TO BE IN THIS PLACE. It's meant to be. Dare I say, it's destiny? Please just know, that even if you do feel out of place and even if you are in rough shape, you're supposed to be there. This is your place. And you're beautiful all the while.

"Freddie.

"P.S. Please don't kill me for telling the truth. I mean every word I wrote."

I held on the the bundle of papers. I didn't let them go. I sat down on the floor grinning like an idiot for far longer than I'd like to admit. He thought I was beautiful. Maybe. He said it twice. Did that mean...? No. Stop...

It took a while for my thoughts to gather. For me to stop thinking about Freddie. Eventually I did, his words still running through my mind.

"You are meant to be in this place."

You're meant to be here.

I sighed and pushed myself up from the floor. I grabbed a handful of clothes from my closet and headed toward the bathroom. Once more, I was stopped. Jenna must have brought in the mail. I put down the clothes and weeded through the mail until I found the letter from Freddie.

I opened the envelope and smiled. Inside were new copies of the pictures Jenna had ruined.

I flipped through the pictures. He'd remembered all of them.

The one at prom. His hand on my hip, my hand on his cheek. I may have actually been slapping him, but the way the picture was captured and the look on our faces made it look a lot more innocent and a lot more romantic. I had the little tiara placed on top of my gold curls and Freddie had on the tacky, velvety red crown. It was the one night of my life where I felt like a princess. And I was completely fine with that.

The white Christmas. It's the first and only time in my life it had snowed for Christmas. Carly, Freddie, and I had all hurried outside and had a snowball fight with the snow that had fallen. It wasn't much, but it was enough. Carly had managed to take a picture right when I had socked Freddie in the face with a giant ball of snow. All you could see was his wide shocked mouth and me laughing hysterically. We were maybe 14.

The day of the last iCarly webisode. After everything had wrapped up, we all stayed and talked and hugged and laughed and packed one final time. This one was candid. Freddie was holding up a black and white striped cloth that we must have used as a prop at one point. I remember him making a joke about how it matched my shirt. It wasn't all that funny, but it was the last time we would all be together for a while so everyone laughed at his stupid humour. The smile on my face was both happy and sad - bittersweet. Both Freddie and I looked on the verge of tears, and maybe we were. I don't know about him, but after the show ended I went home and cried. This moment, though, was a good one.

And the day we graduated. Gibby had insisted that Freddie and I get a photo together in our robes. The crisp white robes with blue sashes and white caps made us almost glow. I was overjoyed that day, ready to just get the hell out of that place, and from my grin in the picture, you could tell. His hand was wrapped around my waist again, and mine around his. It was the classic pose. The only thing more than friendly in the picture was the way Freddie was looking at me. A half smile, heavy lidded side glance that said a lot more about how he felt than any word he said. When Carly saw the pictures the first thing she commented on, aside from her initial jealousy at missing grad, was his look. She said Freddie must have been thinking about how pretty I looked that day.

I still blush thinking about it.

I blushed even now.

The smile stayed planted on my face as I searched for tape again. Once I found the tape, hidden at the back of the kitchen drawer, I headed back to the bedroom. I separated the quotes from the little paper bundle Freddie had given me and rearranged my photo wall. I put the quotes up first before turning around the pictures and putting tape loops on the back. The final picture I put up, which just happened to be the one from grad, read in Freddie's neat printing:

"I hope these are the right pictures." They were. "I'll send new ones every time they get ruined. F."

My lips quirked up again. I placed the final picture on the fake brick wall and stepped back. My photo wall was perfect.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN:** Hey! What's up? Hope you enjoy this one :P

Thanks for continuing on this journey with me babes! Read, Review, and Enjoy :)

Open When...

You Want to Come Home

 **October**

I smiled.

They smiled back.

The room was cold. It had never felt this way before. I'd never been intimidated by the black studio floors or the wooden panelled walls. I'd never been so conscious of the mirrors facing opposite myself or the large windows facing out into the hallway where the rest of my class waited.

I was halfway through the audition for the end of semester production, when I realized I had never done this before. All my auditions to actually get into the school had been done through correspondence. I'd sent in my first audition video in November along with my application, essay, and links to iCarly, and then another, more specific video, after they had inquired and sent a letter asking for a video interview.

I'd never had to do one in person.

I knew to all the students in the hallway, this was old news. This was easy. This was just another day and just another audition.

"Thank you," I said.

They nodded and gestured for me to leave. I walked to the side of the room and bent to pick up my bag and papers that had my monologue printed on it before straightening my black audition outfit, and making my way out.

"Sam," one of the instructors spoke. "The cast list will be posted within the week."

I looked them over once more and managed a small, weak smile. "Sounds good!"

I gripped the handle and roughly opened the heavy wooden door. The chatter in the hallway quickly turned to silence and all eyes came to me. I paused for a moment, letting them size me up. I looked no different than them - everyone dressed in black, hair tied back, makeup done to highlight their best features. Still, they looked. I shook my head and adjusted my bag on my shoulder.

"How'd it go Sam?" said someone in the back.

I searched the leftover people to find Ashley sitting alone on one of the orange leather couches. She was wearing white. I'd noticed that the second I showed up. Among the 18 of us was one stark difference. Now that half the class had already auditioned and left, her pristine white outfit was even more of a standout.

"Better than I imagined," I said, plopping down next to her.

She removed her papers from the seat and stuffed them into her bag. She smiled. There was an understated beauty about her. She was plain in every aspect, from the straight light brown hair, to the slight turned up nose, to the small boned body, apart from her eyes. I'd never met a person with eyes so fascinating. Grey with tinges of blue around the outside. I think she knew it was her strongest feature. She always wore winged eyeliner and false lashes.

"That's really good," she said, her voice shaking at the final word. "I'm not certain I'm going to do well."

When I first met Ashley, I wasn't sure how she got into the program. I could imagine she probably sized me up too. But she was so soft spoken. She always found her place at the back of the classroom, never putting her hand up, never contributing to any discussion, always looking uncomfortable. That is, until she got into action. The moment we were put into groups and I was stuck with her and two other drama nerds, I became well aware of why she was here. She may have been quiet, but once she was on stage she was anything but. And she was an amazing actress from what I'd seen.

I laughed. "Are you kidding?" I said. "You'll probably do better than me."

"That's really nice of you," she said, a blush creeping over her cheeks. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Really. Everyone else hasn't been all that friendly. They think everything is war."

"I can honestly say, I think that's the first time anyone has ever called me nice."

"No way," she said. "You're a good friend."

I opened my mouth to say something, but I wasn't sure what it was I wanted to say. I guess that confirmed I was friends with her, though.

She smiled, her eyes shifting to the door where one of the instructors had just called out another student's name. I watched as the other drama kids gave the guy a pep talk, then roll their eyes as he walked into the room.

Ashley shook her head and whispered. "See what I mean?"

I nodded. "I noticed within the first week. I don't get it."

She shrugged. "Hey," she said. "There's this really good sushi restaurant I heard about in Soho. Did you want to go after auditions are done, like for dinner?"

"Yeah, sure," I said. "I just want to change first."

"Oh yeah," she said, looking down at her own clothes. "I do too. I'll text you when I'm done, okay?"

We exchanged numbers and I wished her luck. I pushed my way through the drama nerds and made the long trek from the back of the building to my apartment.

The elevator was always slow. It probably hadn't been updated in years. Compared to the rest of the building, sleek and modern, the elevators were in stark contrast. Carpeted walls with a metal hand rail around the perimeter. It felt smaller than it actually was, making the journey to the top floor somewhat uneasy and claustrophobic. Whenever I was in it, I found myself texting Carly or Freddie. Unless there was someone with me, of course.

On some subconscious level I guess that was fear talking... But after all those years taking elevators to Carly's, I couldn't imagine why I'd be afraid.

The elevator skidded to a halt on the 17th floor, making an awful cranking noise. I closed my eyes until the doors opened with a ding. The chatter from the student lounge on the floor wafted into the elevator, along with some music from some far off corridor.

That was one thing I liked about my residence here. There was always music. Typically classical, typically rather calming.

Three people got on the elevator. Two girls engrossed in a conversation, carrying containers of food, and Flynn.

He saw me in the back corner and immediately walked over.

"Hey stranger," he said, flashing a cheeky grin.

I pursed my lips, then smiled back, still not making direct eye contact with him. "What's up?"

"Just got some food," he said. I slid my gaze over to him to see a full plate of salad and a guitar slung over his back.

"You didn't strike me as the salad type," I said.

He laughed. "That's not the first time someone has told me that. Keeps you lean, though."

"Oh, okay," I said. "That's pretty cool."

I hadn't talked to him since the end of September. Hadn't even waved in passing. I didn't understand my attraction to Freddie and I didn't understand my attraction to boys that looked like him. And apparently boys who have similar initials. So while I didn't want to really associate with him, I didn't want to alienate him either.

"Coming back from class?" he asked.

"Kind of," I said. "Auditions. Normally I wouldn't be done class until 7 today."

"Wow," he said. "Long day. But also lucky you got out early."

The elevator dinged on the floor below mine and the two girls got out. It was then that I realized that Flynn hadn't pushed any buttons.

I sighed. "Yeah, you don't know how happy I am about that."

"I would be too," he said as the doors closed once more. "How'd it go?"

"I don't know, actually," I said. "I can never judge myself."

He laughed. "That's like the opposite of me. I'm honestly the worst critic of everything I do."

"Yeah, I get that. That's why I try not to judge myself."

"Well if you ever want some help, I can judge you."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Sorry," he said, running a hand through his hair awkwardly. "That sounded a lot better in my head."

The doors dinged open again and I walked out onto my floor.

"Just a hint," I said. "Don't try to be smooth with me."

"Noted," he said, following me down the long corridor.

I eyed him for a moment, wondering what he thought he was doing, but kept walking. I came up to the room and unlocked the door.

Leaning against the doorframe, I blocked him from getting in. "You know," I said. "Guys aren't allowed on this floor."

"Oh?" he said, taking a step closer.

I stood my ground, well aware that I had just flirted with a guy who wasn't single. A smirk was playing on his lips. An intensity in his eyes that I had only ever seen in Freddie's in more intimate moments. I tilted my head to the side, still having to crane my neck to meet his eyes.

"What are they gonna do if they find me here?"

"I dunno," I said, swallowing hard. "Probably kick you out of school. That's the usual punishment for delinquents."

"You would know all about that, wouldn't you?"

I grinned and raised an eyebrow. From the start, I had the impression that he thought I was a lot more experienced than I actually am. He kind of knew about juvie, but his version of experienced meant he thought I had a longer sexual history than I did. I didn't deny it. I didn't care what he thought. In this moment, though, I wasn't sure how to read him or where this was going to go.

"I've always been one to break the rules," I said.

"Then we're on the same page."

He pushed past my outstretched arm and sauntered into the apartment. I stared into the hallway for a few moments before turning around. The second I closed the door, he was on me.

His lips came down on mine, body pressed on me, pushing me against the door. It didn't take me long to wrap my arms around his neck and tangle in his hair. I felt his hands on the small of my back and my butt. Ballsy moves for a first kiss, but this was some first kiss. He had an intensity that could only be compared to furious sex. I knew where this kind of kissing could lead. I knew where this kind of kissing led.

And somehow, something deep inside me was perfectly okay with that.

Maybe it was the fact that I'd barely had any contact with anyone for about a month and a half. Maybe it was because he was a badass Freddie. Maybe it was because I'd only ever had sex with Freddie and I wanted that matched. I wanted that again.

I felt my feet move. He was directing me towards the bedroom. All the apartments were designed the same way so he knew how to get there.

"Left or right?" he asked, breaking the kiss when we got into the room.

I removed my hands from his hair and pushed him onto my bed. He grinned as I straddled him and stripped the black v-neck shirt off of my body. His hands found new solace on the bare skin of my back and our lips joined once more. I could feel him beneath me. It hadn't taken long to get him excited.

The knowledge that he was hard made me freeze for a moment. A moment too long. Suddenly he was on top of me. He trailed kisses from my neck, down my collar bone, and along the edges of my black lace bra. I stared at the ceiling, trying not to disrupt my breathing or think.

"Flynn," I breathed out.

He groaned, attempting to move back the fabric of my bra, taking his name as a moan and not a plea. His hand slipped under the cup and I bolted upright.

His eyes grew wide with shock. He straightened up on the other side of my bed. We stared at each other in silence.

"You have a girlfriend," I said. "We can't -"

"No I don't," he said.

"Are you just saying that because you want to have sex or are you genuinely single now?"

"Since you phrased it so nicely," he said, sarcasm creeping into his voice. "We broke up. Riley and I, we... She decided things weren't working out. She ended it a few days ago."

I blinked. I tried not to show my feelings on my face.

"I know that sounds awful," he said, looking away from me and down at the floor. "Believe me, I know it does. I'm not trying to make you feel like a rebound or anything, I just -"

"But that's what I am, right?"

"No. I don't just want to fuck you and then never call you again."

"Aw that just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside," I said, unable to hold back an eye roll.

"I like you, Sam. I know I have shitty timing, though." He kicked my shirt on the floor, making it slide over to Jenna's side of the room. On the back swing, his foot made contact with something. "Ow."

I looked down to where he had been kicking at the same time he did. Not only had he hit the bed frame, he had also hit my letter box. My eyes widened. Shit.

He bent down and removed the box from beneath my bed, placing it between us. I sighed and snatched my shirt from Jenna's clothes pile.

"Look," I said, pulling the shirt over my head. "If you're going to go through my things, can we not start with this box?"

"Why? What's in it?" he asked, raising his brows playfully as he opened the box. "Sam's secret collection of sex toys?"

I rolled my eyes and closed the sides, pushing it onto the floor.

"Leave it alone."

He stared at me. I stared right back. He blinked and scratched the top of his head, trying to read me.

"Okay," he said. "I'm confused. You closed off again. One minute you're totally cool and making out with me and the next you're staring me down."

"I didn't start the staring match," I muttered.

"What's in the box?"

"It's none of your business."

"What is so important that you don't want me seeing it?"

"What is so important that you care so much?"

I hadn't realized how close I'd gotten to him until he leaned in to kiss me again. His lips lingered on mine as I listened to the ticking of Jenna's alarm clock. 10 seconds ticked by before I pulled away.

I closed my eyes.

"Stop," I said.

"Seriously," he laughed. "What's in the box?"

I shook my head and angrily slammed the box down on the bed, making next to no noise on the soft cushion. I ripped open the top and pulled out a few rainbow coloured slips of paper.

"Letters," I said. "A bunch of 'em"

He peered into the contents of the box, some envelopes fat, some thin. Some brightly coloured, some muted. His face was impassive. The only hint of expression was his large furrowed brows.

"Why?" he said.

I opened my mouth to respond before realizing I didn't really have an answer.

"Do you have a pen pal?"

I huffed and sat down on the bed. I put the envelopes I'd grabbed back into the box. He caught one.

"I don't have a pen pal," I said.

"Then you're in a relationship." He said it with certainty.

I looked at him from the corner of my eye. His face had fallen.

"No," I said.

He laughed sadly. "Yes," he said, staring directly at me, narrowing his eyes. "Someone went to an awful lot of trouble making these letters. You don't do that unless you're in love with them or something."

"Freddie is not in love with me," I said.

"Oh it's Freddie?" Everyone knew Freddie. "I did not realize it was Freddie... Him, right?"

I turned to follow Flynn's finger. He was pointing to the prom picture with Freddie. I blushed and nodded.

"And you're in love with him," he said.

"God no," I laughed.

He shook his head and looked down at the letter he was holding.

"Can I read this?"

The hairs raised on my body and I pursed my lips, a cord struck within me about letting someone see what Freddie had personally written for me. I wanted to prove Flynn wrong though. Freddie wasn't in love with me and I wasn't in love with him. And if I wanted to prove that, I had to let him read the letter.

"Fine."

"You're not thinking of going home anyway, right?" Flynn said, though I could tell he was only half serious.

I wasn't about to tell him I almost opened that letter the night before when I was freaking out about auditions and ready to throw in the towel. I smiled instead.

"You read it to me," Flynn said.

"Why? You can't read?" I asked, taking the letter from him.

"No," he said. "It's just addressed to you so it feels weird if I read it."

Then maybe don't read it, I thought to myself. I nodded instead and bit my lower lip. Play it cool, Sam.

"Sam," I started. "Home is not a place. Home is the people you feel most comfortable with. Right -"

"How wise," Flynn said.

I sighed and glared at him until he held up his hands in surrender.

"Right now you may be feeling sad or uncertain or lonely or angry or lost or even all of the above, but don't go home. There's nothing left for you to do or to prove in Seattle. You were glad to leave and once you finish the year, you'll be glad you left. Only go home to Seattle when I am going back or when Carly is going back, because then it is truly your home. We are your home. Which may sound cheesy, but hey, home is where the heart is.

"Don't run from your problems. Don't hide because it's tough. Don't go home. Prove to yourself what I already know: you were born to do great things and you're doing them now."

His words choked me up. I didn't make eye contact with Flynn. I swallowed and continued to read.

"Listen to Running Away. You know the song. Don't run away from the good things. Juilliard is so good and so right for you. Your home will always be waiting for you, but right now you need to stay and kick ass.

"Sending good vibes,

"Freddie."

I smiled. I knew exactly what song he was talking about. The song that I heard on the balcony and instantly became one of my favourites. It played on repeat more often than not on my PearPod.

Flynn scoffed. "You're so in love with him."

I dropped the letter and made my face void of emotion. "I am not."

"You so are and he's so in love with you," he said. "You guys should just bite the bullet and get on it already."

I pursed my lips. "We did 'get on it'"

"Oh?" he said. "Did you? You mean like what almost happened here."

I flushed.

"Oh shit. I didn't actually think you meant that far."

"I didn't. I literally just meant that we dated. You're the one who asked the question."

"You're the one who fucked him."

"And sex equals love, right? That's what this is then?"

He nodded, his lips toying with a smirk. "Point taken. But I assume that wasn't just quickie rebound sex."

I didn't know what the sex meant. I tried not to think about it. I tried not to think about how I lost my virginity in an elevator after Freddie and I broke up. I tried not to think about the sex on the balcony after the final iCarly show. I tried not to think about the drunken New Years escapade in Gibby's bathroom.

The emotions I associated with those occasions were far from love. Confusion. Loneliness. Sadness. Lust.

I wasn't sure what to make of them...

"It's never been easy with Freddie," I said, letting out the air I'd been holding. I ran my hands along my legs and closed my eyes. "But you don't need to know that."

He shrugged. "Makes me feel closer to ya, friend."

I raised my eyebrows.

"As I see it, that's all we can be right now. But if ever you want to be in that situation -" he gestured to my bed, my chest, and his crotch. " - again, then you know where I am."

I rolled my eyes and watched as he pushed himself off the bed. I picked up the pieces of the letter and placed it on my end table, then shoved the box back under my bed.

Flynn was already at the door. He had shrugged on his leather jacket which he had discarded with his guitar and salad plate on the front desk, that Jenna and I used for mail and keys. He smiled and bent to pick up the guitar.

"Well this was nice," he said.

I made a noise in the back of my throat. I could tell he was being funny. He could tell I wasn't amused, yet still continued.

"We should do it again sometime." He grabbed his salad and turned the door handle. "Seriously though, we should hang out. Just check with your boyfriend first to make sure that's okay."

He was down the hall before I had the chance to say anything, forcing me to yell.

"He's not my boyfriend!"


	7. Chapter 7

**AN:** OH how I wish I waited a few weeks to post the story so this chapter physically aligned with Halloween haha. Oh well! Hope you guys enjoy this one and thanks for continuing to read! :)

Read, Review, and Enjoy!

Open When...

It's Halloween!

 **October**

"Okay, what do you think?" I said.

I was standing on top of the toilet in the bathroom, trying to give Carly the full view of my outfit.

"My God, your boobs," she said.

I blushed and stepped down from the toilet, grabbing my laptop and heading into the bedroom. Jenna had left maybe half an hour ago, in something that very much resembled a bra and underwear.

"Is that a bad thing?" I asked.

"God, no," Carly said, shaking her head vehemently. "I wish my boobs looked like that."

"Okay," I said, placing my hands on my chest. "But do they look good or are they too much?"

"Both." She laughed. "But that's not a bad thing."

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the two shades of red lipstick from my bedside table.

"Which one?" I asked, holding up the two in front of the webcam.

"The one in your right hand looks richer, so I'd go with that."

I nodded and put it on, using my phone as a mirror. Carly pouted on the computer screen. I raised my eyebrows.

"What?" I said.

"I miss you guys and I miss Halloween."

"Don't they celebrate it in Italy?"

"Yeah they do," she said. "But it's not as big and it's just not the same without Spencer and the apartment and our Halloween parties. Plus, I'm kind of jealous that someone finally was able to get you to dress up, and it wasn't me."

"Aw Carls," I said, putting down the lipstick and smiling. "You're cute."

"I'm not cute. I just don't get how you're wearing a costume."

"It's hardly a costume," I said.

I looked down at what I was wearing. Red knee socks, borrowed from Ashley. A deep red spaghetti strap dress, skintight and low cut, borrowed from Ashley's friend Nat, who had a very similar body type to mine, or so I'd been told. And a red devil horn headband, also borrowed from Ashley. Since she had the supplies, she wanted to go out as an angel, and I got the devil. We both figured it made sense with our personalities.

"How did you suddenly make a friend?" Carly asked, leaning in towards the screen, pout never leaving her face. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad you did, it just seems like it came out of nowhere."

"We went out for sushi," I said with a shrug, searching my bag for the false eyelashes I'd been given earlier that day.

"You hate sushi," she said.

I looked up from my search and smirked at the computer screen. "Oh Carls, you've got it all wrong. I will take any food as long as it's free or cheap."

"What about tasty?"

"That's just a bonus."

She laughed, but still seemed sad. She was slightly wilted. Dressed in black, makeupless, and resting her head on her hands, a pose she made sure to avoid for fear of people thinking she was bored.

"Did you go out for Halloween?" I asked.

She rolled her eyes. "They had a thing at the base but Trevor didn't want to go."

"So why didn't you go?"

"Because he made a big deal about Halloween being stupid."

"Has that stopped you any of the times I said that?"

She was silent. I put down my bag and sat back against the wall, pulling my knees up to my chest and my laptop to me.

"Okay, what's up?"

"We can talk about it later," she said. "I'm going to bed. Have fun. Night!"

"Carl-"

She disconnected. I blinked at my reflection on the screen. My hand hovered over the keyboard, debating whether or not to call her back, when a text came in from her.

 _Seriously. Have fun tonight Sam! It's gonna be awesome! Love ya xxoo_ 8:12pm

I knew her text was insincere. But I knew she wasn't going to talk to me unless she wanted to. I sighed and put my phone on my end table, signed off and shut down my laptop, then stood. This was going to be a good night.

* * *

... Open When ...

* * *

I stumbled into the apartment. It had taken me 4 times to get the key in properly to unlock the door. Ashley and her friend, Nat, had giggled each time I struggled, causing me to laugh even more.

I hadn't been this drunk since New Years. The drinks kept coming. And coming. And coming.

Nat, who went to NYU, heard about a party at a frat house near her dorm. Everyone was invited. Some Greek letters that I couldn't remember, standing for something that didn't matter to me, with a reputation of being the best at parties, equaled a bunch of shitfaced douchebags staring at my boobs all night. Yes, the dress had been too much. But we still managed to have fun.

Ashley showed up at my doorstep looking absolutely angelic, while Nat was a mix of both. Angel and devil split right down the middle. We headed down to the frat house, huddled in winter coats, not revealing our costumes to the whole of New York City. The party could be heard down the street. Loud was an understatement. My ears already hurt after fifteen minutes of being there. The guys swarmed around the scantily clad girls at the party and I was suddenly very self conscious of the outfit Ashley had forced upon me. As if sensing my discomfort, and eventually annoyance at being in this loud, sweaty, over crowded room, Ashley and Nat found a small corner and shots. Copious amounts of shots. Tequila and vodka. An awful, awful mix. But so good in the moment. The party went from mundane and average to a swirling mess of laughter and making out with two random dudes.

It was something I never thought I would do.

Making out with guys I didn't know at places I didn't want to be... But I guess that's what alcohol will do to you. Or, to me. Makes me a little too funny and a little too flirty.

Ashley did the same. I saw her kissing some boy in the kitchen at one point. Apparently that's all the party was good for. Nat was much better at holding her liquor. We all had the same amount of shots, but Nat was the only one still coherent. Which was part of the reason why she took us home. Otherwise Ashley and I would have been two plastered girls walking the streets of New York. Probably a dangerous combination without my wits about me. The city never sleeps, though, and even at 2am, people were still wandering the streets.

Ashley flopped down on the couch once I opened the door. The apartment was quiet. No music or snores. Jenna was still out.

"Don't you have a roommate?" Nat asked.

"Yeah," I said, walking into my room. They didn't follow. I curled up on the bed. "But she's gone again. She's always gone. Pretty sure she doesn't like me because I'm not Carly and Carly doesn't like Freddie and apparently Freddie likes me or something. Maybe it's me who likes Freddie, ya know?"

I heard both of them get up and scuff their way into the bedroom. They settled on the floor, Ashley lying down and Nat sitting up.

"I knew you did," Ashley said. She spread her arms out behind her head and ran her hands along the crusty carpet. "You talk about him way too much."

"I don't even mention him," I slurred.

"You literally just did," Nat said.

"Right," I said. "Doesn't count."

I touched the pictures on the wall, finding Freddie's face in each of them.

"That's him?" Nat said, getting up and leaning on the bed for a closer look. "He's fucking hot."

"No he's not," I laughed.

For some reason I thought I was the only one who found Freddie attractive. iCarly fans and other girls I knew continued to prove me wrong. Apparently Freddie was hot.

"If you don't find him fuckable I would gladly take your place," Nat said.

"Oh he's fuckable," I mumbled.

"No way!" Ashley said, getting really excited at the prospect of sex. She shot her hands up into the hair. "You've slept with him? How is he? Good, right? Big? Small? Average?"

I flopped back on the bed, melting into the pillow and grinning. "He's gooood."

"He looks good," Nat said. "Really good."

"Was he your first?" Ashley asked.

"That's always your question," Nat said. "As if the first time has to be super perfect. You're romanticizing it way too much. That's why you're still a virgin."

"Forgive me for not sleeping with every guy in high school."

"I only slept with Aaron and Hugh."

"Whatever," Ashley whined. "How was it?"

I stared at the ceiling. I missed this banter with Carly. And I missed Freddie. New York was not Seattle and New York did not have Freddie in it. Half of me wanted to go to Boston. Seeing someone on a screen was a lot different than seeing someone in person. I wanted to see Freddie. I wanted to touch Freddie. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted those guys who I kissed to be Freddie. I wanted Freddie so bad.

They say distance makes the heart grow fonder. For once, they were right.

"Sam?"

I blinked and snapped my head over to where the voice came from. Ashley was now sitting up and staring at me. My eyes were blurred. It took me too long to realize that I had started to cry.

"Are you crying?" Ashley asked. "Oh my God what's wrong?"

I hastily wiped my face with the back of my hand, black and red makeup coming off on it. I pulled at the fake eyelashes and made a pile on my bedside table.

"No."

"Yeah, you are," Nat said. "You miss him, don't you?"

I shook my head. "No," I said. "My eyes just water when I get tired sometimes."

Nat nodded, but didn't seem to believe me. She turned towards Ashley, who had slumped against Jenna's bed.

"I should get her to her room," Nat said. "It was nice meeting you. Hopefully we can go out again sometime."

I smiled. They left. I didn't see them to the door. I heard it shut and continued to stare at the ceiling. My eyes soon began to flutter shut, but with every heartbeat came one thought.

Freddie. Freddie. Freddie.

Even though I was starting to get deliriously tired, he was keeping me awake. And he wasn't even here.

 _You should call him_ , some distant part of my brain told me.

So I did.

I whipped the covers off and padded back into the main room to find my phone. It was in the pocket of my coat, which I had thrown onto the couch. I snatched it out and began dialling Freddie's number. By the time I reached my bed again, he had answered.

"Fredward!" I said.

He mumbled something over the line. I couldn't tell if he was talking to me. There was a lot of noise. Blaring music and a lot of people yelling over it. I heard something like a door close and the noise was shut out.

"Sam?" he said. "What's up?"

"What's so loud? My God, you sound like you're at a party."

"I am," he said. "My roommates threw one."

I gasped. "That means you're in costume. What're you wearing? Are you a slutty devil?"

He laughed. "What are you talking about?"

"No, that's me," I said. "Fitting, right? Can't believe I never wore a devil before."

"Never wore a devil?"

"Yeah," I nodded, forgetting he couldn't see me. "Like I'm a devil. It makes perfect sense. But I bet the devil never had boobs as good as this."

"Sorry, what?"

"My boobs in this dress." The hand that wasn't holding the phone went and cupped one. "Totally popping out. Carly was jealous. I bet you would be too. But not like jealous you didn't have boobs like mine but jealous you can't touch boobs like mine."

I heard him let out a sigh or take some sort of deep breath, followed by another laugh. "Okay. I'm glad your boobs looked good tonight."

An awkward statement.

"I bet you would be even more glad if you saw them," I said.

"Are you drunk?" he asked.

"Nooooo," I said, drawing out the word.

"You're drunk."

"Nuh-uh," I said. "I don't get drunk. I'm so much better than that."

"Right. Where are you? You're not out in the street somewhere, are you?"

"No, Fredward. I'm not in the street," I said, rolling my eyes. "Does it sound like I'm in the street? Sheesh take your mom pants off."

"My mom pants..?"

"Your pants?"

"What?"

"What?"

"Sam -"

"You should take your pants off," I said.

I heard him drop something as he giggled. That was the best word to describe the laugh that came out of his mouth.

"You know, I think I'll keep them on, thanks," he said. "Are you in your room?"

"Yes, mom," I said.

"Go to sleep, Sam."

"What? No!" I said, suddenly insulted. I balanced the phone between my shoulder and ear and crossed my arms over my chest, pushing my breasts up even further. A grin formed on my lips. "Man, you would love to see my boobs right now. They're honestly the best thing."

"I'm glad you think so highly of them," he said. "Go to sleep before you say anything worse."

"I'm insulted," I said. "Why do you not want to admit how great my boobs are?"

He sighed. "They're great, Sam."

"Thank you," I said. "I knew you thought so. Like I've seen you look. Don't think you're so sly. I don't really give a shit because you've seen them naked so you know what they look like. I bet you imagine them when you stare."

Silence. "I don't even know what to say to that."

"Because it's true, probably. I think," I said. I took a moment and stared at the ceiling again. "Carly says you love me. Maybe that's why you stare."

"What?"

"I don't know," I said. "You're you. You tell me."

"You're drunk," he said. "I don't really want to tell you anything."

"Why are you not drunk? If you dressed up and music and stuff then why are you not drunk?"

"I have a midterm tomorrow," he said. "I've been trying to study."

"Wow," I said. "You're studying at 3am? You shouldn't be talking to me about boobs then."

"I... Isn't that what I've been saying?"

"No," I said. "You said you didn't want to tell me that you loved me, not that you didn't want to talk about my boobs."

I heard the sigh again. "I didn't say any of that. You're just not going to remember this conversation in the morning."

"Okay," I said. "Well if I'm not going to remember it then I should say I love you."

"What?"

"What?"

"That's not how that works, Sam," he said. "I'll remember tomorrow."

"Oh," I said. "So?"

"So you're not supposed to call me at 3am, drunk, telling me you love me."

"I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't."

Sigh. "Okay, fine, you didn't."

"Right."

"Now I really think you should go to sleep," he said. "You're going to have a really bad hangover tomorrow."

"You should sleep too," I said.

"I will if you do," he told me.

"Okay," I said.

"Okay," he said. "Goodnight, Sam."

"Goodnight Fredward."

* * *

... Open When ...

* * *

My head was pounding. I opened my eyes to light filtering in from the blinds I hadn't closed last night and had to blink profusely to feel human again. Through slatted eyes, I noticed Jenna was back from her escapade, but she was not alone. A man, whose legs hung over the edge of her bed, laid in bed with her. From what I could see, they were both naked.

I wrinkled my nose at the thought of Jenna having sex, grabbed my phone, and propelled myself out of bed. The sudden movement made my stomach clench in knots. A shot of pain and an overwhelming cloud of nausea settled over me. I ran for the bathroom.

After emptying the contents of my stomach, what little there was from having mainly consumed alcohol last night, I rested my head against the toilet. It had burned on the way up, just like it had on the way down. I groaned. God, I hated hangovers.

I reached for my phone and dialled the first number I thought of.

"Kill me," I said, my voice coming out garbled, scratchy. I cleared my throat.

"I told you this would happened," Freddie said.

"What?"

"How are your boobs, by the way? Still great?"

"Excuse me?" I said. I looked down at my chest, the dress I had worn last night had stretched and fallen into an even deeper V while I'd slept. My bra was very much exposed.

"Oh," he said. "Don't remember that?"

"Remember what?"

"You called me last night," he said. My stomach clenched again. This time, from the thought of what I may have said to him. "We had a great chat."

"Oh fuck," I said. "Whatever I said I totally didn't mean it. I was just stupid drunk last night."

"Oh," he said, sounding slightly disappointed. He cleared his throat. "Yeah I figured that when you started talking about your body. You never do that sober."

He was right. I would never point out assets that had made me uncomfortable since I was 14.

"Yeah, well, now I have to deal with morning after stuff."

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything. I just feel like shit with my best buddy, the toilet," I said. "But Jenna apparently brought someone home."

"What?"

"There's someone in bed with her. And honestly I don't really want to go back in there with them."

"Go to Starbucks then," Freddie said, nonchalantly.

"With what money?"

"Oh," he said. "I thought this might happen so there's a Starbucks card in the Halloween envelope."

My eyes widened and mouth salivated at the thought of coffee. The mother of all hangover cures. Or maybe the best placebo.

"Do you remember what you put in all those envelopes?"

"Just the special ones."

"Which ones are special?"

He hesitated. "... All of them?"

I laughed. "You're such a nub. I'm gonna go get coffee. Talk to you later Freddo."

"Don't forget to go to class," he said.

"Class is cancelled."

"What? Shit. Come on!" he said. Somewhere in the back of my mind, it registered that Freddie had something important in class today.

"Well," I said. "You have fun with that. Bye"

I hung up before he had a chance to respond. My desire for an end to the headache and nausea won out over my desire for Freddie. At least in that moment.

I walked back into the bedroom and quietly slid the box out from under my bed. I grabbed the orange and black Halloween letter, then grabbed a pair of jeans and my Juilliard university sweater from my closet. After changing in the bathroom, wiping off old makeup, and tying my hair up, I opened the letter and set the envelope down on the front desk.

The note was short and sweet. It read: "Happy Halloween! Hope your costume is bomb as fuck (that is, if someone finally got you into one). If you have a particularly rowdy night, I've included some items to cure you."

Along with the note were the "cures". A tiny plastic baggy with two aspirins inside, a package with two saltine crackers, and a $20 Starbucks gift card. I began to wonder how Freddie had paid for this massive gift to me. These letters were not cheap.

I shook the thought away and popped an aspirin, dry swallowing. I grabbed my bag and shoved the contents of the letter inside, took one look back into the bedroom, rolled my eyes, then left. I found myself hoping they would still have pumpkin spice, a treat that I only ever got on Freddie's accord.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN:** Ok so wow guys I think that's the most reviews/faves/follows I've ever gotten on a story before. Thank you so much for being the highlight of my week! (Yes, I'm a loser, I know.)

I wanted to just mention one review in particular from, **Tanya233** , because that was fantastic! The whole thing just made me smile. No, it was not pointless or too long ;) Thanks for taking the time to write out what you loved. And to everyone, that's for just taking the time to read and review. I love you guys!

Finally, in another review from, **Pickaxe881978** , I was asked how many chapters there would be on this story. So ideally, I'm going for around 30 for now, which would cover the first year of college. I do have ideas for the whole 4 years of college, which would bring it up to about 100 chapters haha! Aiming big! Don't quote me on that, though. I may stop after the first year, but if there's a demand, then I will supply. I do (obviously) have an end goal.

Thanks again, guys! Here's chapter 8! Read, Review, and Enjoy! :)

Open When...

You're Disappointed

 **November**

It was raining. Again. It made me miss Seattle. Because even though it was rain, it was a cold rain. A rain on the verge between water and ice. It felt like winter had settled over New York in about a week. Or at least, a very cold and strong wind. I had to walk maybe 5 minutes to get to class, but those 5 minutes were spent bundled up to avoid arriving in shivers and goosebumps. Though I'd found the goosebumps popping up every so often from nerves.

I was sitting on my bed, legging clad legs crossed, laptop balanced on top, writing an essay. To be more accurate, I was pushing random keys and back spacing sporadically, while listening to music. I had no focus. I rarely did when it came to writing for school. The weather was bumming me out too.

I closed my eyes, placed the laptop on my bed, and drew my legs to my chest. The semester was halfway through. It was hard for me to believe that time had gone by so quickly. School always seemed to drag by for me, but now it was different. The amount of rehearsals and long days left me dragging, lacking motivation, and sleeping away my free time. After talking to Ashley and then Freddie, I realized this need for excess sleep was not just my own. Freddie had explained it to me as a response to stress and early mornings, something I definitely understood. He'd tried to get me to talk about what was stressing me out for an hour. When I continuously refused, he told me it wouldn't get any better. And I knew that. He just wasn't the person I wanted to complain to. Even though he'd given me that free rant coupon at the beginning of the semester, I didn't want to rant to him.

Not now.

I didn't want to admit it to myself, and I certainly didn't want to admit it to him, but I was hurt. I felt like an idiot for being hurt, but I was.

I opened my eyes to a change on my computer screen. FaceTime had popped up and was now ringing. I reached over to my mousepad and hesitated. Freddie. I sighed, pulled my hair out of its ponytail, adjusted the front of my shirt, and clicked accept.

"Hey!" Freddie said, hair slicked back and grinning.

"What the hell did you do to your hair?" I said.

He narrowed his eyes, then raised his brows. "What did you do to yours?"

"Nothing," I said. "Unlike you, right now, my hair is completely natural."

He held out his hands around his head. "Fluffy."

"Do you want to talk to me, or no?"

"Where is your computer right now? I'm basically level with your chest."

"Thanks for looking, Fredwad," I said, rolling my eyes. I picked up the laptop and placed it on the bedside table so that he'd be level with my face. I pursed my lips. "Better?"

"I didn't mean move it," he said. "I just didn't understand the angle."

"Mr. Nerd didn't get basic math. How novel," I muttered. "But wouldn't want to get a boner for the wrong girl, would ya?"

He paused. "Sam."

I shook my head and ran a hand through my hair, seeing in the small preview screen that it was rather rather puffy.

"That's not what I -" he sighed. "Never mind. I need your help."

"With what?"

He shrugged. "I'd ask Carly, but I think she might be sleeping, so it's up to you to help."

"Gee, thanks."

I rolled my eyes. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, then shook his head. He walked out of the area of the screen, leaving me forced to stare at the wall behind his bed. It was real red brick with a shelf hanging overhead. Ever the practical person, the shelf was lined with textbooks. The only thing that deviated from the professional scholar ideal was a small pikachu plush sitting on top of the books.

"God, you're such a nerd," I mumbled.

"What?" Freddie said, appearing in front of me again with three shirts in hand.

"Show me your room," I said. "I saw it with all the boxes, but never complete. I swear to God, though, if it's anything like that one shelf, I am going to make fun of you for your life."

He turned to face the shelf, then raised an eyebrow at me. "What's wrong with it?"

"Textbooks and pikachu. Probably the nerdiest thing I've ever seen."

"Like your room is any better," he said.

"Uh, it is," I snapped back. I turned my laptop to the wall, going lengthwise along my bed, where all my photographs were. "What's this?"

"Okay, so I'm a nerd and your dorm is a common white girl dorm," he said. "All you need now is the fairy lights."

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" I said, narrowing my eyes. "Just a common, pretty, skinny bitch who's the same as everyone else."

His face went blank. He bit his lip and placed the shirts down on his bed. I looked down.

"Sam, I -" he said.

"Ask me about the shirts already," I said. "It doesn't matter. You don't have time for my shit so just show me the shirts and get on with it."

"Okay," he said. "So there's this one."

He held out a plain black button up. I nodded and gestured for the next. He threw it down on the bed and produced a plaid blue, red, and green button up. I wrinkled my nose. The colours reminded me of a scarecrow. He picked up the final shirt. White with red sleeves.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Some pizza place on campus," he said.

"Oh hot date then," I said.

"I guess we'll have to see about that," he said.

Normally, I would laugh. If it was anyone else in the world, I would laugh. But this was Freddie. I wanted him to have the furthest thing from a hot date. I wanted the date to go horribly wrong and the girl to be deathly boring. I wanted her to not show up. I wanted him to be stood up. I wanted her to be the worst kisser in the world. I wanted her to get food poisoning from the pizza joint. I wanted her to have a boyfriend that she was cheating on. I wanted Freddie to hate her.

But he didn't.

He'd asked her out instead.

I wanted to punch him in the face when he first told me he had a date. He'd seemed so proud of himself. I made fun of him. I asked him who would want to date him. I said I would congratulate the girl for taking one for the team.

And then I threw my pillow at the wall once I hung up the phone.

I found her on Facebook the next day. She was gorgeous. She looked like Jennifer Aniston circa 1994. The only difference was a shock of curly dark brown hair. She knew how to work it. Big curls that fell like a halo around her face. I thought of my own hair at the moment, fluffy, frizzy, and out of place. Freddie had even commented on it. Granted, I had started it. It didn't make it any better that he had noticed, though. He probably wouldn't notice with her.

"Well, " I said. "Don't do anything too dangerous, then."

"Dangerous?"

"You know what I mean, Fredward. Play safe."

"Ohhh," he said. "No. You know I wouldn't. Not on a first date, anyway."

"I don't want to hear about it anyway," I said.

"Then why suggest it?"

"I wasn't telling you to go fuck the girl," I said. "I was basically telling you not to. Besides, if you bring her back into your room, she'll probably dump you."

"Thanks, Sam," he said.

"Remember to give her my condolences for dating you," I said, annoyance dripping from my voice.

"It's just one date, Sam," he said. He shook his head and gestured at the shirts. "Which one?"

Black. The answer was black. It made him look mysterious, and in a weird way, really attractive to me. I knew the shirt and I knew how it highlighted the lines and edges of his torso. I knew how when he put it on, I wanted nothing more than to take it off. The black was undoubtedly my choice.

"The plaid," I said instead.

He looked down at the shirt. "You sure?"

"With those pants?"

"Yes."

"Then yeah," I said. "It'll look good."

He nodded and pulled off the Galaxy Wars shirt he had been bumming around in. I cringed away from the computer. I hated that I felt awkward seeing his chest. I'd seen it all summer when we were working at Great Wolf Lodge, him as a lifeguard, and myself as a waitress in the cabana. We always had lunch together and used the slides after hours when the staff had free range. It wasn't awkward for me then. I wasn't sure why it was now. Maybe it was because suddenly he wasn't mine. And my chances were slowly dwindling.

"Good?" he asked, buttoning the final button and straightening out.

I swallowed. "Yes. Have fun tonight!"

"Thanks," he said. He stared into the screen, studying me for the first time since he commented on my shirt. "Sam, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"I don't know," he said, shrugging. "I just... Halloween you said... Never mind. I'll talk to you when I get back, okay?"

"I might be asleep."

"Tomorrow then?"

"Sure."

I disconnected the call and closed my laptop. A loud, low sound escaped me, something between a groan, scream, and a growl. A sound I was not aware a human being could create.

I threw all the pillows off my bed and plopped face down. I laid there for a few minutes, glad that I was alone. I truly was starting to feel like I no longer had a roommate. The boy I found Jenna with on Halloween was now her new boy toy. She was always at his house. She left notes for me when she'd be away, letting me know the apartment would be empty for my own shenanigans. It was a shame I didn't have any. I would have loved to rub some Seddie shenanigans in her face.

I flipped to my back and stared at the ceiling. Freddie was out there with some perky little model girl. That left no room for me. I was just that same loser who he had grown up with.

But I was the loser he had his first kiss with. And I was the loser he had his first time with.

Did that give me some sort of bonus point?

I shook my head and straightened up, hanging my feet over the edge of the bed. God help me if there's a letter for this situation. I kneeled on the carpet and pulled out the box. I wasn't sure what I was expecting. Maybe the 'you feel betrayed, inadequate, ugly, and totally stupid for feeling all of that' envelope.

I tried to lend my current feelings to a few letters before deciding on one. "Open When... You're Disappointed." Which was true. Of the many negative feelings I had towards this situation, disappointment was definitely one of them.

I opened the envelope. The letter and a slip of paper fell out. I picked up the piece of paper. It was a printed out version of the 'I am disappoint' meme. I shook my head and rolled my eyes. If only I could say that to him. I could be the biggest, meanest bitch, but I wasn't about to tell him that I was disappointed. He didn't get the right.

"Sam," the letter began. "There's about a billion reasons out there as to why you might be disappointed. I'm not really sure how you're feeling right now or why. I don't know what made you feel this way. Hopefully it's not a guy, because under the terms of friendship, I'll have to kick his ass."

I laughed. He'd have to kick his own ass then. And I'm not sure how exactly that would work out...

"I don't know what I can do to save you from your disappointment. I'm sorry if I'm the cause. I'm sorry that you're feeling down in general. I know that it sucks. But I also know that it's only human to be feeling this way sometimes. And even though it does suck, it's only temporary.

"Go out and do something fun! Get your mind on something else and smile lots. Just remember that it's normal to feel this way and it's 100% not your fault.

"You can always talk to me if you need to :).

"Freddie."

I sighed. He was probably the last person I could talk to about this. I wasn't about to call Carly about it either. I knew she expected it. I knew in some weird way, she wanted Freddie and I to get together again. And in some weird way, I kind of wanted that too. But as it stood, Freddie was moving on without me.

As much as I hated to admit that.

Maybe that meant it was time for me too. Maybe that meant I shouldn't feel guilty for going after someone I like too.

I packed the letter back into the box and shoved it fully under my bed. I picked up my phone and dialled the number.

"Hello?" he said.

"Hey Flynn," I said. "You busy?"


	9. Chapter 9

**AN:** Thanks for still following me in this journey! So many faves and follows! Wow wow wow! P.S. The play/script is better than the movie (you'll know what I mean in the second paragraph). And none of the puns are of my own creation, but they're still pretty clever.

Read, Review, and Enjoy :)

Open When...

You Need A Laugh

 **November**

I wasn't listening.

Carly had been droning on and on about how angry she was at Trevor for over an hour. I pretended to listen, nodding at the appropriate times and expressing the proper emotions, while actually reading lines.

The end of semester production was a month away. 4 and a half weeks, to be exact. I was freaking out. August: Osage County was our play. It was about a severely dysfunctional family that on many, many levels, I related to. There was a lot of violence, harsh words, and shady events that happened within it, and it reminded me way too much of my home life. I was playing Barbara - a character who displayed probably the worst characteristics shared by myself and my mother. I rationalized my professors' choice to put me in the role, as them relating my past to this present. Because otherwise, I was not this good. It was one of the meatier roles and that was the only way it made sense going to me. I wasn't the only student in my class that thought I shouldn't be playing Barbara. I probably should have been Jean, Barbara's daughter who was rebellious, but far less front and centre. That role went to Ashley, even though she's a few inches taller than I am.

I was reading over the dinner scene. The argument. The confrontation. The full out physical fight.

"Sam?" Carly said. "Are you even listening?"

"Mmm," I mumbled back, eyes scanning the page.

"Sam!" she snapped.

My eyes went to hers on the screen. They were dark and blazing. I smiled.

"What's up?" I said.

"You're not even listening to me," she said.

"Sorry!" I said. "I'm running lines and freaking out."

"Can you hold off for like five minutes and be a good friend?"

"Carls," I said, deciding to ignore her subtle dig. "You've been going on for over an hour."

"And how long were you listening in that time?" she said. She crossed her arms over her chest, brows furrowing. "I can tell when you're not listening to me, Sam. I've known you for way to long for you to be sly."

"Then why'd you keep talking if you knew I wasn't listening?"

She paused. Stared at me. Shook her head. Then laughed.

"Maybe I'm not as good as catching you then," she said. There was a tone in her voice that I couldn't read.

I rolled my eyes. "You're mad at Trevor. He needs to make things up to you. You're being stubborn. He's being stubborn. You wish you were in college like Freddie and I. You miss us. But you love Trevor. But he's being an ass... Good summary?"

"I never said ass," Carly conceded.

"No," I said. "But he sounds like he's being one."

"He's not an ass," she said, raising her voice. "Just because I'm mad at him at this moment, doesn't give you the right to call him an ass. You're only saying that because your full attention wasn't on me."

"I wasn't aware you always needed my attention. Maybe that's why he's being like this. Maybe you're being too needy."

She blinked then narrowed her eyes. I sucked in a breath. Oops.

"Excuse me?" she said.

I licked my lips, desperately thinking of some way to backtrack what I'd said. I ran my hands along the bed and looked over at the weird red and black Creddie blog banner on Jenna's side of the room. She and a few other superfans ran a blog. Recently they made stickers and banners for people to buy on Etsy. I kept checking the shop. They'd sold more than I liked to admit.

"You know Jenna?" I said. A vain attempt at changing the subject.

Carly made a noise, somewhere between miffed and disbelief. She rolled her eyes and moved from her cross legged position on her bed, a position she'd been in since she started the call. She meant business.

"You're joking, right?" Carly said. "You're going to change the subject to your roommate right after insulting me?"

"Well when I have to stare at a Creddie banner, then yes."

"A Creddie ban -" she scrunched up her nose and shook her head again. "A Creddie banner? God Sam, you're knocking me for being needy when I'm talking about my BOYFRIEND and yet you're still going on about Freddie? You're literally starved for his attention but won't do anything about it. All you do is complain to me about how awful it is that your roommate doesn't ship you, or how awful it is that you have to deal with her and her friends thinking I'm in love with Freddie, or how awful it is that Freddie went out on a date. One date, by the way. It didn't go past that at all because he said she had a weird vibe, whatever the hell that means. All the both of you do is complain about how awful it is being alone and having no one to love you. Oh boo hoo. Get over yourselves and stop complaining to me when all you guys want to do is jump each other's bones. Like maybe that would solve the problem."

I opened my mouth to say something, but stopped when I saw her eyes and the set of her mouth. She was done. And not just done, she knew. When she said Freddie and I should have sex to solve the problem, something had changed in my own face. A flick of my lips, a raise of the eyebrows. I felt myself doing it. That one tick had ruined the secret I'd kept from her for over a year.

"When?" she hissed.

"I don't -" I started.

"Oh don't play that card with me," she said. "When did you and Freddie have sex and why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it's none of your business," I said.

"I'm your best friend."

"That means I automatically have to tell you when I lose my virginity?"

"When it's to Freddie!" she said, throwing her hands out to the sides. "You know I'd tell you everything if I lost it."

"You'd tell me everything if you lost it to Freddie?"

"You know that's not what I meant," she said, scrunching up her face again, letting me know exactly how gross she thought that was. "I would tell you about losing my virginity because that's what you do when you're best friends and have been best friends for this long."

"Okay," I said. "Well, I just didn't want to talk about it."

"Oh my God. This is exactly like that time you two kissed and then never told me."

"That wasn't your business either," I said, starting to get frustrated.

"Why is it not my business when you like someone?"

"Because it's me who likes the person, not you. I'm sure you don't tell me everyone who you kiss."

"I do," she said.

"Yeah?" I said. "So you told me about when you kissed Freddie the night you left for Italy?"

Her face went white.

"How do you know about that?"

"Because FREDDIE told me."

"Why would Freddie tell you?"

"Why wouldn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want to tell you I kissed him. I knew you liked him."

"So naturally kissing someone I liked was a good idea in the first place."

"I just don't understand why he would tell you."

"Does that hurt you?" I said, faking a pout. "Does it hurt to know that he would betray your trust?"

"Sam," she said. "I never meant to hurt you."

"That's a funny move if that was never your intention."

"Why did he tell you?"

"Because he's over you," I said, slamming my hands against my bed. "You kissed him and he was finally able to let go of that little kid who had girl next door syndrome. You kissed him and he didn't feel anything. He was so excited to be over you."

It came out more harsh than I intended. She looked down at her keyboard and nodded.

"That's good," she said.

I sighed. "Why'd you do it?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Getting it out of my system before I left?"

"Getting _what_ out of your system?"

"Not like that," she said. "I just meant, closing a door. Like one last kiss and then it's done. For good."

I stared at her for about a minute. Neither of us spoke. I watched her eyes shift uncomfortably. I shook my head and looked away. It was already done for good. Before that. That night in the elevator with Freddie... It was over then. When I found out she kissed him and he had sex with me on the same night, anger burned in the pit of my stomach. I had to fight the urge to vomit when he told me what she'd done. It made it so much worse that after kissing her, he came to me and slept with me. It made it so hard to decipher my relationship with Freddie. Whether he was just transferring feelings onto me when he felt them for someone else or if those feelings truly were for me.

My vision blurred and I looked away from the screen, blinking profusely.

"I don't know what I was thinking," Carly said. "Heat of the moment maybe. I don't know. He didn't really kiss me back. I caught him off guard. It was awkward after I did it. I shouldn't have."

She babbled on and I tried not to cry. I tried not to reflect on the night she left. I tried not to reflect on the relationship between Freddie and I. Complicated was an understatement. It always was.

I wasn't sure there was going to be a time where it wasn't.

"I'm sorry," Carly said.

I shook my head. Shook away the thoughts. "It's fine."

"No, it's not. It was mean."

"Whatever," I said. "I should rehearse. Let me know how things work out with Trevor."

She nodded and I disconnected before she had a chance to say anything else. I took a deep breath and switched to the document with my lines. The words went in and out of focus on the page. My eyes fluttered shut. The room was too silent and my brain was too loud. My thoughts were stirring to the ticking of Jenna's God awful clock.

I closed my laptop and threw it to the end of the mattress, where it landed with a light thump. I laid back and pressed my hands against my eyes, effectively messing up what was left of my mascara. I groaned.

"I didn't sign up for this shit," I mumbled to myself. "Fucking rude."

I wanted to call her back and tell her how I really felt. The unfiltered anger, instead of messy crying. I knew neither of those emotions would win me any points. I would either get into a big fight with my best friend or win pity from her, if she didn't pity me already. A part of me assumed she did.

I swallowed hard, trying to level my breathing. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

Do not cry.

I sat up in bed and maneuvered myself onto the floor. I pulled out the box, then hesitated. Was crawling back to Freddie - or a reminder of Freddie, in this case - really going to help me?

I pulled out the box, eventually settling on a yellow envelope with the words "Open When... You Need a Laugh" scrawled across the front. Inside was another bundle of cue cards.

I flipped through them. Puns. 12 in total. Each creating a small smirk on my lips, making me forget about Carly and her stupid problems, and remember how much of a dork Freddie is.

"I heard Apple is designing a new automatic car. But they're having trouble installing windows."

"What did the sea say to the sand? Nothing, it simply waved."

"Who said grapes are soft? They never cry when you step on them, they just let out a wine."

"How to embarrass an archaeologist? You give him a used tampon and ask him to determine which period it came from."

"Can February March? No, but April May."

"Do you know how they make holy water? They boil the hell out of it!"

"How do you organize a fantastic space party? You planet."

"I was recently diagnosed with colour-blindness. It came out of the green."

"The future, the present, and the past walk into a shady bar. It was tense."

"When I was young, I used to think facial hair looked really stupid, but then it grew on me."

"I'm getting really claustrophobic in elevators. I've had to start taking steps to avoid it."

"I wonder how letters ever get to the recipient. The envelopes, afterall, are stationery."

I sighed, letting the confused emotions escape my body, if only for a moment. Puns I could manage. Horrible jokes I could totally do. Feelings, I was less in tune with. Feelings are a bit harder to manage. To understand. To act upon.

I reached for the phone and dialled Freddie's number.

"Your jokes are shit," I said once he picked up.

"What?" Freddie said.

"Your jokes," I prompted. "They're not good. They're like dad joke level."

He stayed silent for a few beats. I wasn't sure if the line had disconnected. "The puns?"

"Yes!"

"Hey," he said. "I know you love puns. Hope at least one of them made you laugh."

"Maybe a little," I said. "You're such a loser."

"Why'd you open the letter?" he asked.

"Carly's being stupid," I said.

"Oh? What'd she do?"

I smiled and leaned my back against my bed. "Well it all started when Trevor started looking through Carly's phone contacts..."


	10. Chapter 10

**AN:** GUYS has it really been 4 years since iCarly ended? Crazy! I still love it, though!

So a lot of you _really_ hate Flynn. And a lot of you are curious about him and the relationship he has with Sam. So thanks for reading and being so interested. All of this will get answered soon!

Also wish me luck with school starting up again on Tuesday! It's my last year of university! Oh my my my... Also also happy almost anniversary to me and my boo:3:)

Read, Review, and Enjoy :)

Open When...

Youre Doubting Yourself

 **November**

"You've never done this, have you?"

I stared up at the dark ceiling, watching moonlight dance across it.

"I can't believe you've never had a stage kiss before."

My heart was beating too fast. I could hear it in my ears. Feel my blood rushing through my veins. My breathing came out shallow, quick. Afraid.

"It's like we're in kindergarten all over again."

The darkness was encompassing. It closed around me. It felt hot. The small fan on my bedside table did nothing. The air was stagnant, stale, unmoving. It felt as though the walls were closing in.

"I can't believe they gave the fucking role to you."

I was sweating. I was so thirsty. I couldn't move.

"Out of everyone? Everyone! They chose you to carry the fucking play and you haven't even done this before."

Everything was falling on my shoulders. Crushing. Like weights or stones. Like torture. They were on my chest. My breath came suddenly strangled.

"This is ridiculous. Leave some stupid comedian deadbeat to do the dirty work."

The walls closed in. The windows burst. The ceiling fell. The building collapsed to the ground. And I went with it. Down. Down. Down. Down. Down.

"I can't work with someone like you."

Someone like you.

Someone awful.

Someone mediocre.

Someone who can't remember her goddamn lines when that's all she's been asked to fucking do.

I watched the lights flicker on the ceiling. I listened to the ticking of the clock on the other side of the room. I tried to reorient myself somehow but everything was making it worse.

I'd never felt this way before. I'd never laid in bed terrified, fingertips tingling, chest tight, stomach churning, head pounding, unable to move. Nothing came close to the feeling. It was panic.

And it was something I didn't want to identify with.

I tried to claw at some helpful information in my brain. Carly had had a panic attack before. Carly had done that weird breathing into a paper bag technique.

But I couldn't move.

Something about being alone in a blackened room had brought out the worst in me after the worst day.

I was going crazy.

All the rehearsals with all the students that couldn't give two fucks about me and how hard I was trying to get this right, had somehow brought me here. I wasn't sure I was meant for drama. Meant for a role as big as Barbara. And I knew the whole fucking cast agreed. Pick anyone else and the show would be a hundred times better. Probably a thousand times better.

As long as it wasn't me.

Thinking about being on stage, thinking about the final performance, thinking about how many people were depending on me, made me physically sick to my stomach. The panic gripped hard around me, clenching against every sane bone in my body. Twisting vines around my stomach and squeezing, sending bile into my throat.

The wave of nausea grew so intense that I somehow regained control of my limbs and bolted into the washroom. I hovered over the toilet but instead of emptying the contents of my stomach, tears spilled from my eyes. I crashed to the floor and curled up into a ball, my head resting on my knees. The sobs were violent, messy, ugly, as though I'd been through something disastrous and wasn't just thrown off by something a classmate had said.

But it was more than just being thrown off.

It was everything.

It was the fact that I was here and college was hard and my best friends were miles and miles away and I wasn't a dramatic actor and my mother hadn't called once and neither had Melanie and the only guy who liked me here just wanted sex and everyone in my program thought I didn't deserve to be there. In general, I didn't belong here.

I'd been in New York for almost 3 months now, and I still battled with that thought everyday. I didn't see the value that an ex delinquent could bring to a school as fancy and elite as Juilliard. I understood why the drama kids didn't want to associate with me. I wasn't anything like them.

Evan, the student who had been chosen as a former flame and renewed love interest to my character, was right. I'd never had a stage kiss before. I'd never had to go in front of a hundred or so people and kiss someone I barely knew. I didn't know how to put the feeling into that. I didn't know how to make it look like I was falling for a person I wasn't. That fact alone made me question why I was still here. Because that was the point of acting, wasn't it? Pretending that you did have these feelings. Pretending that the kiss was earth shattering and life altering. I'd had those... But I didn't know how to channel those feelings for some weaselly looking snob with a huge nose.

I tried to make myself think that the cool porcelain of the tub was calming. The cold against my shoulders should shock my system out of this, right?

But the sobs still came and my vision still blurred. I wondered if other students in my program felt this overwhelming anxiety about having to perform. I wondered if they were up in the middle of the night, waking up to darkness and an eerie silence that rarely happened in New York. I wondered if they felt like they were going to throw up the moment they stepped on stage.

I listened to the dripping of the shower. It had started to run a few weeks ago and I'd meant to tell the RA several times. Each time I forgot. But whenever I went into the washroom, all I could hear was the dripping.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Much like the ticking of Jenna's clock, the dripping of the shower only gave my thoughts something to swirl around.

 _You are not good enough,_ they screamed.

You are not good enough.

You are not good enough.

I wasn't good enough. I wasn't even close. And I was going to fail. Miserably.

I crawled over to the toilet again, convinced I was going to hurl. All that came out was a heave and a strangled sob. I clutched the edge of the toilet until my knuckles turned white, then pushed myself to my feet. Through blurred eyes, I stumbled, having to hold onto the counter in front of me in order to right myself. A dim light spilled through the slatted blinds of the bathroom window, just enough to take in my disheveled appearance in the mirror. I was someone other than myself. Someone 10 feet smaller, forced into the ground, the weight of everyone's expectations pushing down on her shoulders.

Where had I gone?

Where was the girl who didn't care what other people thought?

Where was the girl who didn't flinch when she got thrown into juvie?

Where was the girl who didn't think about any of this?

I knew in that moment, digging my nails into the bathroom counter, that that girl didn't exist. She never existed. Maybe she had for a second. Maybe out of necessity, she locked herself up and put up glass, wood, stone, metal, increasingly indestructible walls. Maybe she hid behind a guise of not caring, a guise of pretending that nothing hurt. But all those walls were crashing.

I couldn't remember a time when I had ever cried this much.

I walked back into the bedroom and plopped down on the floor by my bed, back against the bed frame, knees against my chest, silence enveloping me. The streets below me laid bare, no wind, no rain, no sound. Jenna's clock no longer ticked. I looked up and squinted to find the hands motionless, lying in the same place they had been when I'd left the room.

I furiously wiped at my eyes, trying to place the moment when I'd let myself get here. I didn't know who this person was and I wasn't sure if I liked her. Vulnerability had never been my thing. But neither had doubt.

I was always so sure of myself. Even when it was something stupid or out of reach, I knew I could do it. And now... Now I was sitting on the floor of this bedroom that was hardly mine, wishing I was back in Seattle following my original plan of getting some silly part time job that I would be stuck in for the rest of my life.

Freddie was the one who talked me out of that plan. He'd rolled his eyes and told me I was so much better than that.

I slid the box from underneath my bed, the thought of Freddie bringing fresh tears to my eyes, but also fresh hope. God help me if there isn't a letter for this. I peeled at the sides of the box and sifted through my dwindling supply of letters. There was a fair amount left, but not nearly enough for my comfort. I pulled at a grey envelope with a tinge of purple.

"Open When... You're Doubting Yourself"

How did he know? I figured, at this point, Freddie somehow knew me better than I knew myself. He knew I was fucked up, but he knew I didn't want to talk about it. He knew I'd rather read his letters in silence than admit to feeling any of these things.

I opened the letter to find one simple sheet of paper with one simple phrase scrawled across it.

"Doubt kills more dreams than failure ever will."

I stared at the phrase for a long time. I don't know how long had passed before I looked up. I glanced at Jenna's clock again, but the hands were still stuck. My eyes drifted back to the phrase. I wasn't sure what Freddie was trying to tell me with this one.

I sighed and shifted slightly along the edge of my bed, grabbing my cellphone off the nightstand. Before I could think about what I was doing, my fingers were dialling Freddie's number.

"Hello..?" came a husky and confused voice on the other end of the line.

"Shit," I said. I pulled the phone away from my ear and glanced at the time. "I didn't even -"

"Sam?" Freddie said. I heard the springs of his bed. "It's almost 4am. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said. "I just didn't think."

"Think about what?"

"Calling. It's late... I probably shouldn't have."

He laughed, breathy. I heard a light switch click on. "Well I'm up now. What do you want?"

"No really," I said. "It's fine. You should go back to sleep."

He paused. I heard him breathe. It was somehow comforting.

"What's wrong?" he whispered. "You wouldn't be calling me or anyone if something wasn't wrong."

"I wouldn't be calling anyone if something _was_ wrong."

"And yet, here we are."

I laughed, but it turned into a cry.

"Do you think I'm going to fail?"

"What?" he said. "Fail what?"

I shook my head and sniffed, debating whether or not I should tell him. "Everything. You think I'm going to fail."

"I don't think you're going to fail. Despite being called in the middle of the night, I think you're doing pretty well there."

"So then why the quote?" I asked.

He stammered, confused. I imagined him running a hand through his hair like he did whenever he was frustrated or at a loss for words.

"What quote?"

"Doubt kills more dreams than failure ever will."

"Sam," he said, softly. "It doesn't mean I think you'll fail, it just means it's okay to fail. It means that doubt, in itself, is a failure if it's paralyzing you and stopping you from continuing your dream. It's perspective."

"Perspective that I'm supposed to take?"

"Perspective that you should take into account. Sure, it's embarrassing to fail, but it's even more embarrassing to not try."

I said nothing.

"Sam?"

I had nothing to say. I stared at Jenna's bedspread, listening to Freddie's breathing. It was the first thing to calm me down that whole night. I matched my breathing to his. I closed my eyes. I wasn't sure how it worked, but it did.

"Sam?" he said again, soft, cautious. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I sighed. "Kind of. I think I may have panicked, a bit. Something someone said got to me."

"What'd they say?" he asked.

I shook my head, realizing after that he couldn't see it. "It doesn't matter."

He sighed. "Clearly it does if you're calling me right now."

"No one thinks I should have gotten this role."

"Sam, you -"

"Which I know is totally lame and stupid and I shouldn't be hurt by some ugly pipsqueak who got the tiniest and most unimportant role in the whole play, but he's right." I laughed and ran a hand through my hair. "I sound like such an idiot. This is what keeps me up in the middle of the night and makes me cry? What kind of lameass, basic bitch have I become? That's not even a problem for some people. The problem for some people is the fact that they have no education and are stuck in poverty or something. That could have been my problem. But now... But now I have this. And I'm so mad at myself for thinking this is valid."

"It is valid, Sam," Freddie said. I'd opened my mouth to interrupt him and tear down my problems some more, but he didn't give me the chance. "Just because someone out there in the world has had it worse or in the past you had it worse, doesn't mean that what you're dealing with now isn't a problem. It just means it's a new set of struggles."

I was silent. He continued.

"The thing about you is that whenever you're afraid of something, anything - mostly when you're afraid you're going to fail at something - you go out and you do something stupid to avoid it. You like to run away. You pretend like you're not bothered by the problem by running from it and hoping that when you're done doing the stupid thing, it'll be gone."

I swallowed. "And what am I supposed to do about that?"

"What you're doing right now."

"What?"

"Talking," he said. "Productively seeking out help for your problem and facing it instead of avoiding it."

I sat on the floor, staring at Jenna's frozen clock, picking fluff off the carpet, having an epiphany about my life.

"So if you knew that, why did you never tell me about it?" I said.

"Because you would never listen."

"I'm listening now."

I thought he laughed. It might have been a sigh. When he responded, his voice was lighter.

"That's the thing about life," he said. "Sometimes it takes us a while to finally listen to ourselves."


	11. Chapter 11

AN: Still loving all of you and all of your reviews, faves, and follows! My fourth year of uni just started so updating might be just a touch slower than usual. I'm still aiming for every Saturday, but it might be every other Saturday. Bear with me here guys :)

But onto the next! Bit of a long chapter here! I did a lot of research for it for just the smallest details and I'm crazy. My God, do I know too much about a school I will never go to. And I also know some new details about New York too. Which is so not a bad thing because I love New York. When Sam ate ice cream, I ate ice cream. So in sync. Haha. Also this week has been so confusing and weird and so many bombs were dropped in my life. Kinda pissed, kinda ecstatic, kinda wowed.

2016, everyone!

Read, Review, and Enjoy!

Open When...

You're Stressed Out

 **December**

"Dear Sam,

"If you're stressed out and feeling like the world is caving in on you, here is a list of 10 helpful de-stresser's.

"1. Do Something Artistic"

I needed out of the apartment. I was going crazy. Every time I tried to study, every time I tried to run lines, every time I tried to do an assignment, Jenna would run in with a new problem. She had broken up with her boyfriend, if you could even call him that. The boy from Halloween, whose name I had never bothered to learn, was no longer in the picture. Though not from lack of trying. There were way too many door slams and way too many curses to believe that these two were truly done.

I'd grown accustomed to doing work, school or not, in hostile conditions. My mother and her flavour of the month always enjoyed yelling at each other at the top of their lungs. The occasional dish smash and door slam was something I was also used to. Or so I thought.

With Jenna, every slam, yell, bang, and crash, jarred my thoughts. I'd lost my place so many times I'd stopped keeping track.

But I really had no place to go to study.

And it wasn't like studying and running lines and doing the three hundred other things I was expected to do was really helping me. I was so stressed out it was ridiculous.

My face had broken out, my period was late - not pregnancy related considering I hadn't had sex in months - and I almost had another panic attack in the early morning hours. December was hell. Exams were in a week, the final production was in two, and everything was due come Friday.

I wanted to scream. I had no place to scream. I missed the luxury of having a house with a forest behind it where you could run through and yell at the top of your lungs. It was a little more taboo to do that in an apartment building.

...and I'd probably get kicked out and thrown into a mental hospital. And I was not going back to a mental hospital.

I sighed and rolled over in bed. According to Freddie, sleep wasn't the greatest response to stress. He was probably right. I couldn't sleep away my problems. But I didn't know what else to do and the letter he wrote was so much work.

Do something artistic? Like what? Did he forget I go to an arts school?

I heard my phone buzz and reached for it on my desk. The front door slammed again.

"Maybe you should have thought of that before!" Jenna yelled through it.

"I did!" the strange boy said. "You're the one who didn't think."

I groaned. I'd heard this argument a million times. I glanced at the text from Ashley and jumped out of bed, changing out of sweatpants and into a pair of jeans.

 _Want to go out? Nat knows a place_ 6:48pm

 _Coming!_ 6:49pm

I grabbed my coat from the chair by the front desk and shoved my feet into a pair of boots before noticing Jenna sitting in front of the door cross legged with her arms also crossed over her chest. A pout looked as though it was etched permanently on her lips and her eyes were closed.

"So are you going to block the door or can I leave?" I said.

"If I open the door, he'll come in," Jenna said, as if that were obvious.

"How do you know he's even there?" I said. I walked towards the door and knocked on it. "Hey, Jenna's boyfriend or not boyfriend? You still there?"

Nothing.

"Okay," I said, looking down at her now surprised face. "Now move."

She shifted slightly out of the way and I opened the door. The guy wasn't in the hallway either.

"He's gone," I said.

"Good," she said, got up, and walked into our room.

I rolled my eyes and closed the door. Ashley was waiting by the elevators at the end of the hall. Our usual meeting place.

"Ready?" Ashley said.

I nodded and shoved on my coat, not really caring where we were going. As long as it was out and away from all the noise in the apartment. I followed her into the elevator and watched as she pressed the button for the main floor. She was talking. Most of it I didn't catch. My mind was still racing. As much as I wanted to get the hell out of the apartment, it stressed me out even more to do so. There was so much work... Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

"Sam?" Ashley said as the doors opened and I stayed put.

My eyes snapped up and she gestured for me to come out. I followed. I'm always up for embracing bad ideas.

"So where are we going?" I asked when we hit the streets and cold air hit my face.

Ashley pulled a hat out of her bag and I immediately regretted not being more prepared. I shoved my hands deep into my coat pockets.

"You haven't been listening at all, have you?"

"Don't shoot me for that," I said. "I'm already in trouble with Carly for being a bad friend."

She laughed and pulled out gloves. "Nat knows someone down at the Luna Lounge who's going to get us into the Paint Nite tonight."

"So we're painting?" I said, avoiding eye contact so she wouldn't see the look on my face.

"Well, yeah," she said nodding and wrapping a scarf around her neck. I shrunk further into my coat. "That's kind of the point. You have a little wine and then paint."

I nodded. I knew what it was. Carly wanted to go to one the minute we turned 21. Leave it to her to not want a Vegas birthday bash.

Ashley continued to talk about how great painting the exact same thing as everyone else was going to be. My thoughts lingered on Carly. Another point of stress for me. On top of Jenna and school and the awful drama nerds, Carly was up there. Somehow she was the one who got to come away angry. Since she'd apologized for kissing Freddie, she felt she was now in the right. I hadn't apologized or given any details about my "escapades" with him, so that allowed her to be moody. She continued to pester me with questions until I disconnected the calls. Maybe it would have been easier to just tell her. But I didn't even want to think about it. Not now. Not when I actually had to succeed for the first time in my life.

"We're here!" Ashley said.

I stood in front of the slightly dingy looking building. I knew we were close to Times Square, I could hear the buzz of all the tourists. They'd come in droves once the weather had turned cold and the city had decked itself out.

I followed Ashley into the bar. Nat was standing at the front, leaning against the rocky wall. She smiled when she saw us and nodded to a man in a suit. She led us to the back where the Paint Nite was just beginning. I took one good look at the set up, the yuppy, preppy, pre-drunk patrons, the canvases all lined up in a row with a wine glass where the paint should be, the instructor in a perfectly paint stained apron, and the finished generic painting of Paris put out as an example for the night, and made my decision.

"Nat, Ashley," I said. They turned to face me. "I'm sorry, I'm just not feeling too good tonight. I thought going out would help but I just feel shitty."

"You sure?" Ashley said.

"Have a glass of wine," Nat said.

"C'mon it'll be fun," Ashley said. "You can't back out now that you're already here."

I shook my head. "I can't. Sorry. Next time."

I turned around before they had a chance to say anything. There wouldn't be a next time at Paint Nite. Not for me. I knew Ashley wasn't going to be too happy, but it was better they spent time together as best friends, than me as a third wheel hating everything.

"2. Go For a Walk."

I stood outside on the curb for a few minutes, basking in the cold winter air. It was going to snow. I knew it. The weather report that morning had said it would, the crisp, stale nature of the air said the same. The sky was a dark red colour, the lights of the city bleeding into it and making it seem less threatening. I zipped my jacket right to the top and huddled down into it, trying to hide my ears from the cold.

I walked down the street, eyes scanning storefronts in the entertainment district, looking for a place that might sell hats. Eventually I headed to Times Square, zeroing in on a souvenir shop that had winter hats on display in the front window. I grabbed the first hat I saw, a grey knit toque with "I Heart NY" written on it. I paid the overpriced amount of money, turned it inside out and placed it on my head.

When I got back outside, the first flakes of snow had begun to fall. I smiled and watched as tiny flakes collected in my hair. I had to admit, the city was growing on me. There was something about New York in wintertime that felt like magic. The lights strung up on every lamppost, the gigantic tree and rink at Rockefeller, the Christmas displays in every store window along 5th avenue, and of course, the snow. There was something about it. Something I couldn't figure out why I loved so much.

I continued walking around aimlessly. I had nowhere to go and nowhere I needed to be. The snow and the air were so calming. I felt it wash over my body. I watched the snow catch on trees in Central Park. I watched children smile and laugh as the snowflakes tickled their eyelashes. I watched couples link hands and lean on each other for warmth. This is what I needed. This was on Freddie's list.

This was on Freddie's list.

Shit.

I fished my phone out of my bag to find 3 missed calls and 15 texts from Carly. Shit, I was supposed to call her. I knew I was missing something.

 _FaceTime. 10 minutes_. 7:33pm

I glanced at the clock, only to realize that I had about 5 minutes to get back to the apartment, or I'd miss her call again.

I ran.

The cold air whipped against my cheeks, an exhilarating and painful feeling. By the time I got back into the building, my cheeks were tomato red and I could barely feel my fingers. I ran them along my pant legs, only pulling out my phone when I was sure I wouldn't drop it.

 _Can I call?_ 7:47pm

My phone connected to the building's wifi in the elevator. A few more notifications came in about missed FaceTimes.

"Carly," I groaned. "Why do you have to be so difficult?"

She'd scheduled the call with me. In part, it made sense. She had to call at a time that wasn't too ridiculously late for her. But with the time difference and my forgetfulness, it was almost 2am in Italy. That's when she usually went to sleep. We had agreed on 7pm, my time, and 1am, hers. I'd left it a bit late.

 _Yup_ 7:49pm

I unlocked the apartment door and headed for the kitchen, not taking off the hat or my coat. The door to the bedroom was closed so I assumed Jenna was sleeping. I'd have to stay in the main room. I put my phone down on the kitchen counter and reached for the highest cupboard. I didn't understand why we put the cups up so high when we were both so short. Once I had my hands on a large yellow mug, my phone lit up.

Carly's call filled the screen. I slid the green bar to answer.

"Hey!" I said, not looking down at her and instead pulling hot chocolate mix from another cupboard.

"3. Curl up With a Hot Cup of Something"

In part, I needed a hot drink because I was freezing, but it was also something on that list to destress and I could tell this was going to be a long conversation.

"Sam!" Carly said. "Where have you been? I've been calling for like an hour. And why am I staring at the ceiling."

I rolled my eyes and started boiling the water.

"Sam! What are you doing?"

"I'm making myself some hot chocolate," I said. "Give me a minute."

"Fine," she said.

She was silent while the kettle boiled. I poured the water into the cup and added the hot chocolate mix, then walked over to the couch with the mug and phone in hand.

"Okay!" I said, drawing my legs to my chest and turning my camera on myself. "Hello!"

"Why are you wearing a hat?"

"Because it's freezing outside," I said, grabbing the top and pulling it off. "Snowing too."

"It's snowing?" she said. "Oh my God, that must be magical!"

"Honestly, yeah, it was."

"I'm so jealous! The fact that you're admitting that must mean it's amazing."

"Well then you should come to New York!"

"I will!" she said. "I applied to NYU and Brown! Next year, I'll be there!"

I smiled, grabbed the mug on the coffee table and balanced my phone between my knees. I took a sip of the hot chocolate and felt the warmth spread through my body. I held onto the mug, letting my fingers unfreeze.

"Uh," Carly said. "What am I looking at?"

"A mug, maybe?" I said. "Or my chest? I don't know."

"Oh."

I sighed. She was going to tell me I was being a bad friend again. She was going to tell me that I wasn't caring about her and I was forgetting about her again. She was going to tell me that I was being distant again.

"What?" I said, a little too sharp.

Carly had been added stress in my life lately. She didn't seem to understand how much work college took. But why would she? She'd practically been on vacation for over a year.

"Sam," she started. "It's just... You keep forgetting about calling or when I'm supposed to call. And whenever we do talk, you're always distracted. I just don't like it."

"Okay," I said, trying to think of something further to say.

"Okay?" she said, her voice taking on a slight shrill edge to it.

"Carls, I don't know what to tell you," I said. I put the coffee mug down, shrugged out of my coat, and directed the camera back to my face. "I don't know what to say that I haven't already."

"Sorry, maybe?" she said. "I'll do better, maybe?"

"Jeez," I said, unable to control my eyes from rolling. "You make it sound like I'm some awful, good for nothing husband. Sorry I'm stressed out."

She shook her head. "That's not an apology."

"What did I do that needs one?" I said.

"You missed 3 of my calls tonight and didn't pick up until an hour after we agreed."

"Well sorry," I said.

She could tell it wasn't genuine. I could tell it wasn't genuine. I was really starting to hate this whole distance thing. And the whole keeping secrets from Carly because she always finds out, gets mad, and demands to be told everything from square one thing.

"Okay," Carly said. "It's late. I should sleep."

"Carly," I said.

"No," she said. "I really have to go to sleep."

"Carly!"

"I'll talk to you later!" she said and disconnected the call. I was left staring at my own face in the black reflection.

"Well fuck you too," I said, throwing my phone to the other side of the couch and stretching out.

"4. Watch a Good Movie"

I glanced over at the tv. I hated using it. Jenna's family was rich and with her came a ton of expensive crap, including a Smart TV. She said I was allowed to use it and enjoy all the functions, one of her nicer gestures, but I still felt awkward as hell doing so.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, though.

I grabbed the remote on the coffee table and turned on the tv. The welcome screen came up asking what I wanted to do. Cable, YouTube, Internet, Netflix, DVD. I went to Netflix, clicking on Jenna's account. On the day she moved in, she told me I could use her Netflix. This was the first time I'd opened it.

Thousands of shows and movies were suddenly at my fingertips. Coming from essentially nothing with all my "rich" experiences being through Carly, this was something pretty damn special. I settled on the movies. Something I could watch in one sitting and relax over. I certainly needed that after the call with Carly.

On top of everything else.

I found myself looking at the chick flicks. The romcoms. My guilty pleasure. I would never let anyone know that my favourite movie was Music and Lyrics. Nothing wrong with a little feel good movie every once in a while, though.

I chose Mean Girls first, a movie I'd seen probably a hundred times.

Except this time I wasn't finding it all that funny. Too much girl drama in the midst of my own. By the time everyone was starting to turn on Regina George, I had checked out.

I turned off the movie and switched to Easy A. Carly had tried to get me to watch it when it first came out. I don't particularly like movie theatres, so I refused. She came back smiling and telling me how much I missed out.

And now, watching the movie, all I could think of was how I'd missed out. And how Olive's 'best friend' was a bitch. And how Carly and I were kind of being bitches to each other.

So I turned it off.

Bridesmaids popped up next on the list. I liked it. Until I didn't. I wondered if Carly felt the same way that Annie, in the movie, did. I hadn't tried to replace Carly. I hadn't tried to make Freddie my best friend or make Ashley my best friend. Neither of them were.

Freddie came pretty damn close, but Ashley... Well, she already had a best friend. The banter that her and Nat had constantly reminded me of what Carly and I have.

She didn't need another best friend and neither did I. My best friend was in Italy, but she was still my best friend.

I didn't want to think about the possibility that Carly thought I was replacing her. I was always out and busy... What if she thought that I was always with Ashley? Or the times I've talked about Flynn and Freddie. What if she thought I was replacing her with all of them?

I switched the movie once again. I'm usually so much better at staying focused. I usually needed to finish a book or a movie or show all the way through before moving to the next one. But not today.

Love, Rosie. I remembered the name. Carly had read it on the plane to Italy and suggested it to me when she landed. I hadn't picked it up. I don't know why. It seemed as though it could be good. Frustrating, but good. So I took the easy way out and made the decision to watch it. Maybe I would read it someday.

Maybe I would also finish the movie someday.

I was more than halfway through.

Rosie was with Greg. Alex's relationship had fallen apart. Rosie deserved more. Alex's letter had been hidden.

It was a gigantic series of mishaps and shitty timing.

And it reminded me of Freddie. Because our timing was shit. Nothing ever worked for us.

I shut off the movie and turned off the TV.

The silence was deafening. All I could hear was the groans of the heater. I sighed and looked at my phone. It was close to 1am. Carly hadn't said anything further.

I bit my lip and stood from the couch. I silently crept into the bedroom and grabbed Freddie's stressed out letter from inside a textbook on my bed.

"5. Get Yourself a Treat"

All I knew was that I wasn't sleeping. I could get behind this food idea, though.

I put on a pair of flip flops and headed down to the 17th floor. There was always food out, no matter the time. I loved the prospect of going out and having free food - a perk for everyone in residence, covered by the overall fee - anytime I needed it.

At this hour, the chefs were gone, but there was still a lot of food ready to be taken. I headed over to the freezer section where they housed the desserts. There were individual sized pints of ice cream on the bottom shelf of one freezer. It was mostly picked over. Stressed out students must have been getting their ice cream fixes on today. I opened the freezer door and pulled out the first pint my hands landed on.

Chocolate.

I turned towards the checkout desk and felt my back pocket. My student card was in my wallet that I hadn't grabbed from the room. I pursed my lips and pretended to pull it out. Knowing that there were cameras in the food area, I went through the motions of buying the ice cream and pretended to swipe my card. I grabbed napkins and a spoon from the extras table and walked away.

Finally in the elevator, the old mischievous, sadistic part of me smiled. I may have kind of stolen ice cream. Kind of. It wasn't like it was my money anyway.

When I got back to my floor, it was eerily quiet. Apart from Halloween, I couldn't remember a time when I'd been out this late. Halloween was busy. Today, it was dead. I understood it though, had I not needed a pick me up, I would have been sleeping away the stress too.

I'd left the door unlocked purposely so that I wouldn't have to grab my key. But as I turned it, I quickly realized it was locked.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me," I muttered under my breath.

I tried the doorknob again. Still locked. I sighed and searched for something that I could use to pick the lock. There was nothing in my pockets aside from my phone. The plastic spoon wouldn't work and throwing the pint of ice cream at the door would be counterintuitive. So I knocked.

Jenna's voice came immediately. "I'm not letting you in."

"What the fuck, Jenna?" I said.

"I can't let you in because then Steve will get in."

"Who the hell is Steve?"

"My boyfri- That guy who keeps stalking me."

"So," I said. "Your boyfriend."

"No," she said.

"Jenna," I said, rapping on the door and groaning. "Let. Me. In."

"I can't do that," she said.

"He's not in the fucking hallway," I said. "Let me in."

"You don't even know what he looks like," she said. She sounded frantic. "I can't let you in."

"I swear to God, I'll knock down the door," I said putting the ice cream down on the floor and bracing myself to kick it in.

She laughed. "Well good luck with that because I've barricaded it."

"Are you fucking serious?" I said. "You're joking right? You're not that insane?"

In response, I got a text from her, showing me she had, in fact, barricaded the door. All our furniture was now pushed against it.

"How did you do this in the 10 minutes I was gone?" I said.

"I work fast," she replied, flippantly. "Now, I'm going to sleep."

My eyes widened. "Jenna!" I said, banging on the door. "Jenna! Jenna, get your boney ass back here!"

Nothing.

I called her cellphone.

Nothing.

I slid down the door and sat on the floor, knees pressed to my chest. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I was going to kill her. I was literally going to throw her against a wall the next time I saw her.

I thought about going to my RA or going to Ashley's room to crash, but both ideas were fleeting. I grabbed the ice cream and dug in, finishing it in only a few minutes. When I was done, I had a major brain freeze, borderline migraine headache and a stomachache like nothing else.

So I peeled off my Juilliard sweater, leaving myself in just a tank top, and balled it up, turning it into a makeshift pillow. I curled up in a ball in front of our door and somehow managed to fall asleep.

* * *

... Open When ...

* * *

I woke up to light and sound. The hallway was brilliantly lit, sun streaming in from the large windows at either end and most prominently from the window our room was just outside of. There was loud music coming from our room, coupled with girls running through the hallways like they often did on Sunday morning.

I sat up and wanted to puke. Apparently sleeping right after angrily eating a ton of ice cream is not a good idea. It felt like a weird form of a hangover. I rubbed at my eyes, slipped back into the flip flops, and tied my sweatshirt around my waist.

The door was unlocked and evidently not piled with stuff. I walked in to find Jenna playing on her violin. I threw the ice cream container and spoon in the trash and stormed into our room, grabbing the bow right out of her hands.

"What the hell was that last night?" I said. "What kind of insane are you?"

She blinked at me, as if I had no reason to be angry at her. She calmly took back her bow and resumed playing.

I closed my eyes and swallowed. I wanted nothing more than to beat her with her own instrument, but I knew what would happened if I did that.

"Jenna," I said. "No one is after you. No one likes you. No one wants to storm the damn apartment at one in the morning. I hope that guy is done with you because no one wants a crazy bitch like you."

I turned towards my dresser, listening to her ominous music, and noticed once more, that she had ruined my possessions. Not only were the pictures of Freddie and I ripped, but so was the Galaxy Wars shirt I had stolen from Freddie and had recently been sleeping in. I stared at the ruins for a bit before snatching new clothes out of the closet and walking straight into the bathroom.

It was there that I finally screamed. I didn't care if anyone heard, I just needed to do something.

I got into the shower, washed off the grungy germs from the floor outside, and screamed.

Two more weeks, Sam.

Two. More. Weeks.

I got out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel. I fished the list out of the back pocket of my jeans and laughed.

"6. Get a Manicure/Pedicure"

Fuck no.

That wasn't going to calm me down in the slightest. That was only going to make me think of all the Jenna's of the world with their perfectly perfect life and hair and nails and face and snotty awful attitude.

I changed into a pair of leggings and an old cable knit white sweater. I pulled my wet hair into a pony tail and stared at myself in the mirror.

Angry.

I was fuming and I looked it.

"7. Put on Some Uplifting Music"

I grabbed my dirty clothes, my phone, and the list and headed back to the bedroom. I would channel my anger into my studies.

Jenna was elsewhere in the apartment and I was so grateful. It gave me even less temptation to punch her. I gathered the wrecked photographs from my bed and threw them in the trash. I threw the Galaxy Wars shirt into my pile of dirty clothes. It may have been ruined, but I was in no way getting rid of it.

Lying down on my bed felt better, especially after having been outside on the floor all night. I popped my headphones into my ears and turned the music loud. All I wanted to hear was a good song. All I wanted to do was drown out the world so I could finally finish my readings.

It worked for about half an hour. Anger drove me to focus. My full attention was on A Bold Stroke for A Wife in that giant anthology, until it wasn't. I was nearing the end of the play, actually enjoying it for once, when music, that was not my own, travelled in from our living room.

 **I knew you were trouble when you walked in...**

No.

 **Flew me to places I've never been...**

My face landed in the book and I took off my headphones, only to be confronted with louder music.

 **Now I'm lying on the cold hard ground...**

"Jenna!" I yelled.

The song switched.

 **I remember when we broke up, the first time. Saying this is it I've had enough...**

"Jenna!" I yelled for the second time. I got out of bed and stomped into the room.

Music swirled around me, I could feel the walls beating.

"Why would anyone on earth be blasting Taylor Swift this loud!"

"She knows what I'm feeling!" Jenna yelled over the music.

"This is awful!" I screeched back.

"Bullshit," Jenna screamed. "She says exactly what you're thinking when you break up with someone!"

I rolled my eyes and placed my hand on my forehead. She started singing. The headache from last night was coming back.

I had to get out.

"WE ARE NEVER EVER EVER GETTING BACK TOGETHER!"

I moaned out an inhuman noise as I headed back to the bedroom. I slammed the textbook shut and grabbed my phone. The list, lying underneath it, gave me my next idea. I gathered some things in a bag and purposely sauntered out of Jenna's awful pity party, slamming the door on my way.

"8. Exercise!"

My first stop was on the 17th floor. I needed food. In my fury over everything that Jenna does in life, I had forgotten to eat.

I grabbed a few granola bars and stuffed them in my bag, then moved over to what the chefs had prepared for today. I piled a plate with ham and pancakes, before scanning my items, typing in a code, and swiping my student card to pay. I walked over to the small sitting area and slowly ate my food. After devouring the ice cream the night before, all I wanted to do now was savour all my food. And it was good food too. Everything here was absolutely stellar. Something not too many people say about college food.

Once I had finished, I stayed behind and fiddled around on my phone. I answered a few texts from Ashley, and a sent a funny picture to Gibby. That was the extent of my texting relationship with Gibby. Back and forth we just sent each other weird pictures. Ashley was wondering if I was okay. And Freddie hadn't written me back.

I shook it off and smiled as I brought my plate back to the washing station. For the first time in my life, I was really pumped to work out. I had a lot of pent up, aggravated energy I needed to be rid of.

The 22nd floor of the residence building was devoted to the gym. The Frederick P. Rose Fitness Centre. I had been there three times over the semester. Once, on the first day I arrived when I was casing out the joint. Another time to register for the gym. And a third time to actually go and work out, but I only spent about five minutes there before I left. This time was going to be different.

I scanned my student card at the front and entered the code to get in. The sleek, heavily windowed, blue tinged, open concept room came into view. Out of everything in the residence hall, this was the room that most reminded me of a hotel. Except for the fact that it had a very slight stench of sweat.

In the change rooms, I found the locker I had used the last time. Number 1313. It seemed rather superstitious to me and for that reason, I loved it.

I dumped my bag inside it and pulled out my exercise clothes. A pair of jogging pants and a sports bra. I'd considered wearing more than just the sports bra, but I didn't honestly care that much and it seemed pretty on par with what everyone else was wearing. I changed in a stall of the bathroom, squeezing myself into everything and making sure nothing jiggled when I moved. Once I was certain I was presentable, I walked back to the locker and pulled out a bottle of water.

I was ready.

Machines and equipment littered the floor of the gym. Even though it had only been open for about an hour, there was still about 15 people just mulling around. The only thing that bummed me out, was the lack of a punching bag.

I settled my sights on a treadmill in the back corner. It overlooked the city, facing the water. The snow continued to fall and that along with the running motion, made my anger dissipate quickly.

After ten minutes of running, I was interrupted.

"Hey, pretty lady," a voice to my left said.

Annoyance crept over me once more. I was fairly certain that you weren't supposed to hit on people at the gym. Considering there wasn't a lot of people in here either, it wasn't like the guy wanted my machine.

My gaze skirted to the left, scowl present. "Wha- Oh... Hi!"

He laughed. "If looks could kill..."

I rolled my eyes and stood on the sides of the treadmill. "What do you want Flynn?"

"Whoa," he said, holding up his hands. "Not so eager anymore, eh?"

"I'm tired, hungry, angry, and stressed as fuck. I'm not in the mood for this. Did you want something?"

"Well, you know what solves that!" he said with a wink.

I pursed my lips, about to step on the treadmill again, when he turned it off. I stood in the middle and folded my arms across my chest, which is exactly where his eyes went.

He smirked before bringing his eyes to mine. "Come here."

"What?"

"I have something to show you."

"What?"

He grabbed my arm and I grabbed my water bottle. "A view."

"A view?" I said, following him, but dragging my feet. "A view of what? I can almost guarantee that I don't give a shit."

He didn't say anything, just dragged me to a dark, shady corner of the gym that showed the full view of the city. I could only imagine what this view looked like at night when New York came alive.

I shrugged. "It's nice."

Flynn laughed again, then turned me to face him. I craned my neck up to meet his eyes. The only time I'd ever been level with him was on that treadmill. I shot him a wry smile and tilted my head, trying to politely tell him to get the fuck out of my way.

"So going out for coffee that one time was really nice," he said, hands now on my upper arms. "How come I haven't seen you since then?"

Because I haven't been desperate since then?

"I haven't had time," I said instead, brushing his arms off.

"There's always time for coffee," he said.

Before I had a chance to think, his lips were on mine. He worked fast, pushing his sweaty, bare chested body up against me, his hands moving to my ass and his tongue trying to work its way into my mouth.

I pulled back.

"Coffee, sure. Whatever you're trying to do right now, no."

"Aw, come on, babe," he said, a sly smile creeping onto his lips.

"Sam. Not babe, Sam."

"Okay," he said. "Sam."

I scoffed and pushed him back so I could walk away. I was done. He followed me all the way to the women's change room. I turned around hard and glared.

"What?"

Flynn's eyes grew wide, then narrowed. He looked affronted. He shook his head, ran a hand through his hair and walked away.

"Whatever," he said.

I shoved open the door so heavily, it hit the wall. "Yeah, whatever."

I packed everything back into the bag and slammed the locker door shut. I wanted to scream again. Scream and punch a wall and throw everything off of everything.

I stormed out and into the elevator and smashed my palm against the button for my floor. The fact that I was alone meant nothing to me. The fact that I was now pissed beyond belief meant everything.

Jenna was still blasting music when I got back to the room. I could hear it down the hall. I hesitated, but had nowhere else to go, so I unlocked the door. She was sitting in the middle of the kitchen with her eyes closed. I stared at her for a few minutes before she opened her eyes and noticed me.

"Yes?" she said.

"How can you think in this?" I said, closing the door behind me and striding into our bedroom.

"It relaxes me," I heard her say.

I rolled my eyes and threw the bag onto my bed where all of my crap lay. I flopped down next to it, rubbing my temples to be rid of the noise.

This day.

The past 24 hours had been awful. I just wanted a break.

I reached under the bag, searching for the small piece of paper that held Freddie's list. My hand grasped around it.

"9. Take a Bath"

I shrugged. Honestly, not a bad idea at this point. Maybe, just maybe, that would finally work.

I grabbed my clothes out of the gym bag, realizing then that I had walked through the apartment in my sports bar. That was probably fine, though, I had seen people in worse. And then again, it didn't matter much on a floor with all girls. They'd seen it all before on their own bodies.

The music in the other room cut off and I smirked. Jenna peeked her head into the bedroom as I was getting up.

"I'm going out," she said, quickly, then left.

"Well thank the lord," I muttered to the empty room, swiping a bath bomb and PearPod speakers from Jenna's things.

I set up the speakers in the bathroom and snapped my phone into it, putting on some music. Music filled the echoed room as I filled the tub. The thought of slipping into a nice, warm, bubbling bath already managing to calm me.

I let out a long sigh and undressed. The water was perfect, my music was perfect, and soon I would be feeling that too. I threw in the bath bomb and watched in dissolve in purple, blue, and pink sparkly fizz. It made patterns in the water that I moved with my hands, sparkles coming off on them.

Once the water was to my liking, I slipped into the tub. I imagined anger and frustration coming off of my body like waves of steam.

My eyes fluttered shut. The music and water swirling around me.

But two songs later, I was wide awake. My thoughts were wide awake. My mind was suddenly stirring again.

Worried about how much I had to do.

Worried about the readings.

Worried about the production.

Worried about the assignments.

Worried about all the bullshit going on in my personal life.

Carly was angry with me, Ashley was blowing off school, which made me want to do that same, Flynn only wanted sex, Jenna was fucking psycho, and Freddie had been oddly silent. For some reason, and a large part of me hated it, Freddie not talking to me bothered me the most. I knew he wasn't doing it on purpose. And I knew, that like myself, he was insanely busy. But him not calling or texting had been the icing on my giant stressed out cake.

I splashed around in the water, rubbed my hands over my face, dunked my head underwater. I came up for air, my thoughts still going and going and going. Hell.

Well, I guess a bath wasn't so relaxing.

Whatever fucked up frame of mind I was in had fucked up my bath time.

Another song ended.

I stared at the wall. I followed the lines in the marbled tile with my eyes. They reminded me of the tiles in Freddie's bathroom. Always did. Every time I came into this bathroom, it made me think of him. As if enough didn't. I always averted my eyes.

But if you can't beat them, join them.

Another song ended.

I got out of the tub.

Join them.

Join him.

I knew what the last thing on the list was. I knew what I was going to do.

"10. Hang Out With a Friend"

Four hours and $20 later, I was on his doorstep. A dilapidated building, with brick walls inside and out. His door was a muted green, scratches etched into the wood, and a white board hanging at eye level, spelling out the roommates names.

I pursed my lips. Something about having your name on your door seemed off to me.

I looked down at the floor, fidgeted with the bag I hastily packed full of clothes and textbooks, and scuffed my beat up sneakers along the stiff carpeting.

Okay.

Go time.

The door opened as I raised my hand to knock. A tall, messy haired, dark skinned boy with a bottle of vodka in hand, startled when he saw me. I jumped back too.

"Sorry," I said, taking a few more steps back. "I was about to knock."

"It's all good," his voice boomed. "I just didn't expect to see you there. Did you need something?"

He seemed very sober for someone with such a large bottle.

I shook my head.

"Is Freddie in?"

He looked me up and down, before a half smile drew across his lips. "Are you Sam?"

"I might be," I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

He nodded. "That's not creepy or anything. I watched iCarly and Freddie mentions you a lot." I tried not to smile or blush. I failed. He recognized this and nodded once more, smile growing. "I'm Noah."

"Sam," I said, taking the hand he stuck out.

"Freddie's inside," he said, stepping around me. "You can go right in."

I watched him walk down the hall, knock on another door, present the vodka, then invite himself in. To be fair, I wouldn't say no to vodka or a drinking game...

I turned my attention to the half open door and pushed it further open with the toe of my shoe. Inside were white walls and wooden trims, that somehow seemed dingy. I ran my hand along a crack in the baseboard. Somehow this place had seemed nicer on move in day.

A boy was sitting on the couch. He turned away too quickly. He'd been watching me.

"Okay," I muttered to myself. "Hi."

His head jerked back towards me. He had the biggest blue eyes I had ever seen, made even larger by his shock and intrigue over me being in their dorm.

"I'm Sam," I said, waving.

He bobbed his head and continued to stare.

I opened my mouth to speak again, maybe ask his name, maybe tell him off. I hadn't fully decided yet. I didn't get the chance to. Freddie bounded into the room.

"Pete, what's going -" Freddie trailed off.

Pete. That must be the kids name.

Freddie's eyes landed on me. They widened for a split second, then took me in. Hunched up, pale, and bundled in winter clothes, I was quite the sight. But he smiled, no less.

"Sam," he said, though it came out as a breath. "What're you doing here?"

"I -"

"Nevermind that," he said, rushing over and taking my bag from me. "It's good to see you again."

I hid the smile by looking at the ground.

"How long are you staying? Are you okay?"

He bombarded me with questions and I laughed.

"Chill, Benson," I said. "I need a place to study."

"So you came to Boston?"

"It's a long -"

"Hold up," he said. "You said you're studying. Since when does Sam Puckett study?"

I rolled my eyes. "Can I stay with you or not?"

He smiled. A true and genuine grin that only Freddie Benson could pull off. "Of course you can."


	12. Chapter 12

**AN:** I just want to throw something out here: if you assault someone in real life, you can go to jail. The kind of Sam I'm going for is one who has made this realization and doesn't want to go back. She still lashes out (screaming, words, anxiety, avoidance, minor physical actions), but doesn't almost kill a person haha. I think there's so much more to Sam's character (and probably a bit of an unexplored backstory that I find fascinating) than her being violent. She's not some sociopathic person who lashes out and doesn't feel guilt. A lot of her bursts of anger in the show were for comic relief, anyway. But she's human and as we grow, we change. College/university is a completely different atmosphere and precipice to the rest of your life. I know I'm not the same person I was when I first started, so why should Sam be? She grew in the show, she's growing and figuring things out in my story (which would make sense that something about succeeding for the first time AND not having their best friend around would change a person a bit). That's the kind of thing I'm exploring.

That and the romantic/sexual tension that always followed her and Freddie. ;)

OH WELL.

Please enjoy Sam doing something stupid!

You know that feeling where you really want to finish something and know exactly where it's going and have so many plans, but have absolutely no time to do it? UGH. Sorry for the delay in getting this up. Officially posting every two weeks at this point! Hope you all enjoy the next few chapters! Christmas is coming soon in them (: Thanks for reviewing and reading!

Read, Review, and Enjoy!

Open When...

You Need a Friend

 **December**

The apartment felt cold, silent, eerie, and empty. Since my return to it a few days earlier, Jenna had been missing. She left a note: "I'm out. Who knows if you'll read this. Who knows where you are."

The passive aggressiveness in the note made me smile. She was psycho, but spunky. A part of me appreciated that and kind of thought I was the same too.

Just maybe a little less psycho.

I spent the weekend at Freddie's. I skipped class on Thursday and Friday, submitting all my assignments online, and stayed until early Monday morning. I got home just in time for my exam Monday afternoon and rehearsal that night.

But now it was Wednesday, and here I was, lying in bed with no roommates, no fun things to do, and no friends. I wasn't afraid to admit that I was lonely. Being on the "outs" with Carly didn't seem to help that situation.

Freddie told me that Carly should be used to my secrecy by now. A tiny part of my pride was wounded by the casual way in which he said it. As if he always assumed I was keeping secrets. I sat on the floor of his room, not facing him, but still trying to keep my face level, when he said it. It wasn't that I was keeping secrets, there were just things that are better left unsaid. Even though Freddie didn't know exactly why Carly was mad at me and what secret I was keeping, he understood that I had that right to keep it to myself if I wanted to. And sometimes, that's what worked best for me.

The thing was, Freddie knew I would get there eventually. Once some time passed I would get to a point where I would be willing to talk about whatever the burden may be. Carly had known me for years longer and was still failing to grasp this crucial part of my personality. Whenever I pulled away, she aggressively tried to reel me back in. But whenever I pulled away with Freddie, he let me loose, but still let me know his presence was there and that he'd be there for me if and when I needed him.

When you've been alone for 2 days with your best friend not calling, your roommate missing, and your new friend too stressed out and only leaving her room for rehearsals, you start to think about the bigger things. And I'd started to think about my weird and dysfunctional relationships with everyone.

Maybe it was the play talking. Everyone was pretty damn dysfunctional there.

Maybe it was because I was so confused about my feelings and life in general. First there was everything I felt for Freddie, which was so encompassing and reminiscent in everything I did and wrong, but also so so right. But then there was Carly and then there was Flynn and then there was Ashley. The more people I met, the more complicated it got. And that's not even counting Jenna.

I'd been so good. So good. I hadn't gotten kicked out of school or landed in jail or done something irrevocably stupid. The fact that I wasn't failing at life for once was genuinely surprising to me. I didn't know how to wrap my mind around it.

Juilliard was confusing. Everything I'd discovered these past few months about myself and my future freaked the shit out of me. The future freaked the shit out of me. Somehow I'd gotten to a point where I actually had a future. And possibly a good one at that. I knew I'd ruin it. But I really didn't want to and was doing everything in my power to keep it level for once.

I rolled over in bed and checked the time. I had about 3 hours until the next rehearsal. Things were getting crazy and I was scrambling to remember all the lines I had in the play. More than anything I wanted to do well. I wanted to prove to the drama geeks that an outsider was better than they were. But I had to work incredibly hard to do so... And with everything weighing on me already, I wasn't sure how I would be able to focus.

I closed my eyes. I wasn't opposed to a nap. I felt myself drifting easily once I'd bundled up in the fluffy pink blanket from Melanie. The silence and cool breeze in the apartment made it easy for me to get comfy and start to fall. My body relaxed and my breathing evened until my thoughts ceased.

And then my phone rang.

I jumped up and looked at the screen. The first thing I noticed was how little time had passed since I'd laid down. The second was Carly's name and picture on the screen. I groaned.

"Hello?" I said, deciding at the last minute to pick up the call. Carly's face appeared on the screen.

"Sam!" Carly said. "I honestly didn't expect you to answer!"

"I was sleeping," I said, rolling my shoulders.

She was quiet for a moment. "Sorry. Did you want me to go?"

I wiped a hand over my face and pushed myself into a seated position. "Nope. Go for it!"

"Okay," she said. "Well, I don't have much to say, I just haven't heard from you in a while."

"Yeah," I said, nodding. "I was at Freddie's over the weekend so I guess I've been busy."

Silence.

Fuck.

"You were at Freddie's?"

"I needed a place to study."

She laughed. "Oh yeah, I'm sure that's why you went to Freddie's."

I sighed. "Well, Jenna was being psycho and trashed my shit again, she locked me out of the apartment and made me sleep on the floor, and then she started blasting Taylor Swift break up songs. It's not the best environment for studying."

"You know," she said. "I think there's this thing called a library. It's really good for finding quiet and picking up a book."

"So I wanted to see a friendly face. So what? I did get a lot of work done."

"Oh, I'm sure you did."

I gritted my teeth. "What the hell does that mean?"

"What kind of 'work' did you get done?" she asked, using air quotes and smirking.

I couldn't hold back the sigh. A big, annoyed, over-exasperated grunt.

"I got two essays and one reflection done, and I learned all my lines. Apart from that, I was also able to study for the five exams I have this week. What work did you get done this week?"

She bit her lip. "I almost slept with Trevor."

"Almost?" I laughed.

"Sam," she said, all joking aside. "Can you please just tell me what it's like?"

I sighed. Carly should expect my secrets, right?

My lips moved a few times. I tried to form a sentence more than once. I wanted to tell her again that it was none of her business. I wanted to tell her that I didn't want to think about Freddie in that way. I wanted to tell her that she'd have to get me drunk or do some insane Japanese water torture thing on me if she wanted to know.

Instead, I blurted: "Good!"

Her face fell. "What?"

I closed my eyes. "Please don't make me say it again."

"I was just surprised you actually said something," Carly said.

"Yeah, well," I said, with a pronounced sigh. "Bother me enough and I'll crack. What do you want? Shoot."

She smiled slightly, then adjusted herself on the leather couch. I realized she was on her laptop when she placed it on the table and I could see her fully, sitting cross legged with an oversized t-shirt on her small frame.

"When did it happen?"

"When we broke up."

"Why'd you break up then?"

"Because we're stupid."

"Why didn't you get back together?"

"Didn't make sense."

"But sleeping together did?"

"Yes."

She paused for a second, stretched, then started the second round of questioning.

"How was it?"

"Good. I already said that."

"Did it hurt?"

"A little. Not much. Just kind of uncomfortable for a second."

"What was he like?"

"Carly," I said. This was bordering on too far.

"Well? You said you'd answer."

"To a degree," I said. "But I didn't want to get too far into it."

She sighed. "Fine."

I bit my lip and leaned back against the pillows. "Fine."

"So where was it?"

My lips quirked. She would never go in the service elevator again. "The elevator."

"What?"

"The elevator."

"Like, my elevator?"

I nodded.

"Oh my God, Sam. I've been in there like a thousand times since you guys did that. That's gross!"

"Well then I'd stay away from Freddie's bed and Gibby's bathroom."

"It wasn't just the one time?"

"No."

"How many times?"

"Three and a half," I said, trying to hold back my laughter at her face.

"And a half?"

"Yeah," I said. "We kind of, almost, did it at the cabana when we worked together this summer."

"And you guys are both still denying you like each other?"

"I never outright denied it," I said, shrugging. "It's just not really plausible right now."

"You literally just visited him."

"Yeah, so?"

"You're like 3 hours away from each other. You're not a whole ocean away or anything."

"Yeah, so?"

"You could totally pull it off."

"Maybe I don't want to."

"You want to," she said, crossing her arms and smirking. "If you didn't want to be with Freddie, then you wouldn't be wearing his shirt."

"How do you know it's his shirt?"

"Sam, please," she said. "Why would you own an MIT shirt?"

I looked down at the red and grey, slightly too big, school shirt. Yeah, ok, maybe that was a bit obvious. And maybe people had given me really weird looks when I'd walked into my exam with the shirt on today. But I needed a new shirt to replace the Galaxy Wars one and this was the first I was able to "borrow" without him noticing.

"Fine. I stole it. Happy?"

"Stole it from Freddie?"

"No," I said. "From the bookstore. What do you think? Besides, you can't give me hell for wearing the shirt when you're totally wearing Trevor's."

She rolled her eyes. "See, there's a difference with that. I'm actually dating him while you're too afraid to date Freddie."

"I'm not too afraid," I said.

"Fine," she said. "Then date him."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to."

"That's crap and you know it."

I did know it. But I wasn't about to tell her I was too afraid. Fuck that emotion.

"You know," she continued. "You not being able to talk about how you feel is why people ship Creddie."

I froze. Every cell in my body turned to ice. I gritted my teeth and fought the urge to chuck my phone across the room.

"What?" I said tightly.

"I just mean that it would be easier for people to like you guys if you acted on things like Freddie does."

She was good at putting her foot in her mouth sometimes.

"Because everyone else's approval matters?"

"You seem to think so."

I glanced over at Jenna's banner. My blood boiled. I clenched my fist against the bedspread.

"I have to do something," I said. "I'll call you back later."

She grabbed her laptop and started scrambling, backtracking everything. I wasn't leaving because of her. Not fully. But I also was no longer listening. I ended the call and threw my phone down on my bed.

The Creddie banner had been hanging over my head for far too long. And I really, really hated it. I didn't need anyone's approval on anything I did, but this banner had to go. I didn't need Jenna's negatively in my life. Maybe I felt a tiny amount of kinship towards her and maybe that's why I hated her a little, but I shouldn't have to fight my roommate over fictional pairings.

I marched over to the other side of the room and stood on Jenna's bed. The banner was affixed to the wall with pushpins. I collected the pins in my hand and the banner came crashing down.

I walked to the kitchen, threw the pins on the counter, grabbed the scissors, then returned to the bedroom. The banner laid in a heap on Jenna's bed. I didn't hesitate. I no longer cared. I cut the thing to pieces.

Once the blue scraps of fabric lay on the bed and floor, I still didn't care. I only wanted more. I pulled the poster of Carly and Freddie together in an embrace from underneath Jenna's bed and cut it up too. I searched for anything else Creddie related in her belongings and came up empty handed.

I sighed. Something about the bare wall was oddly comforting. I smiled and collected the pieces, throwing them into the trash.

Only after I'd sat down on my bed and admired my work, did the gravity of my action catch up to me. I wondered if Jenna felt guilty for ruining my things... Probably not if she did it again.

The wall was too barren now. Too white. Too plain.

Fuck.

Carly was good at stopping me from doing stupid things. Freddie was also good at that. To be fair, I'd been pretty good at stopping myself these past few months but I guess something's gotta give. At least I didn't murder her with the scissors.

I found my phone and called back Carly. But she didn't pick up.

Shit.

She'd probably yell at me for being so stupid, but at least she'd have a plan of action other than RUN. I mean, maybe running wasn't a bad option? If it looked like I hadn't been back then maybe she'd think someone else did it?

Of course, that was ridiculous.

Maybe I could just own it like she had with my stuff. But I feel like she'd kill me. She's like 51% more likely to kill me than I am her.

I started dialling Freddie's number, then stopped. I didn't want to explain this situation or the talk with Carly to him. So I pulled out the box.

It always surprised me that Jenna hadn't found and destroyed my letters. But, man, was I grateful she hadn't yet.

An oddly square shaped envelope stuck out to me. I pulled it from the box and read the black marker scrawled across the front. "Open When... You Need a Friend."

Yeah, that sounds about right. I opened the letter to have a purple DVD with a small yellow sticky note attached to it slip out. Disc 2 of the fifth season of Friends sat on the floor.

I plucked the note off of the disc. "The One Where Everybody Finds Out is my favourite. Watch that one!"

I smiled and shrugged. Maybe my only friends would be fictional characters for now. Maybe I would just run from my problems. Maybe I would watch episodes of Friends until Jenna came home.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN:** I'm literally basing all my Drama program info off of the fact that my minor is Drama and this is relatively how the program goes for those who major in it. Just so ya know! Haha

Love all you guys! Thanks for reading! Happy Canadian Thanksgiving (last weekend)! Hope it was great for everyone. :)

P.S. Whoever keeps writing as a Guest asking me to promote their story, I can't help you if you don't leave a name! But also it's a copy/paste message so idk how many times you've left that comment on people's works or how I feel about that haha. Good luck with your writing!

Read, Review, and Enjoy! :)

Open When...

Your First Performance is Over

 **December**

The curtain closed. We'd taken our final bow.

I could barely feel my legs.

I felt the same way I had the night of the first iCarly; giddy, anxious, and weirdly okay with it all. I was beaming. I hadn't forgotten my lines. I hadn't gagged when Evan kissed me. I hadn't gotten so nervous that I puked.

And now it was over and everything was rushing over me.

Ashley ran over and hugged me.

"Congratulations on a stellar performance, girl!" she said. I didn't move my arms to return the hug. She didn't seem to mind. "One day down. Seven more to go."

She flitted off before I could say anything to her. I didn't mind. All I wanted to do was eat a ton of food and then sleep off all of the extra emotion.

I went to the communal girls dressing room and headed to the back station against the beige plaster wall I'd claimed as my own. Other girls in my class were busily chatting while casually taking off their makeup. Ashley had somehow already disappeared so I talked to no one. And honestly, I was perfectly fine with that.

I quickly removed all the makeup that had been piled on my face and pulled my teased, curly hair up into a ponytail. I changed out of my final outfit and hung it up on the wardrobe hangers marked for myself. I slipped into a pair of leggings, the MIT shirt I'd stolen from Freddie, and my Juilliard sweatshirt overtop. I slung my coat over my arm, knowing that I'd only have to walk a few seconds outside, and shoved my feet into old, beat up combat boots.

I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone before leaving. 2 new messages from before the show started. One from Carly and the other from Freddie.

 _Hope everything goes well tonight Sam! I'm so proud of you omg!_ 6:15pm

I smiled and sent back a thank you to Carly.

 _The show should be starting soon! Break a leg!_ 7:03pm

I rolled my eyes and texted back: _What if I actually did break my leg?_ 9:46pm

 _Well then that would be very unlucky and the exact opposite of what the statement intended._ 9:46pm

 _Ur such a nerd_ 9:47pm

 _Always have been. Always will._ 9:47pm

 _Lol I didn't break my leg FYI_ 9:47pm

 _I know_. 9:47pm

I stared at the text for a good minute, unsure of what snarky thing to say back. Instead, I dropped the phone back into my bag and walked out of the dressing room, coat and bag in hand.

There were hundreds of people in the lobby building and no one was moving. Most of them looked to be in their 40s and 50s. More than likely they were parents of the cast. Almost all of the women had on luxurious fur coats and oversized designer bags. I tried to break through the hoard, but no one would budge.

I groaned and forced myself in between two incredibly tall, high heel wearing women. One wobbled as a pushed past and rounded on me, eyebrows knitted together, mouth mid snarl. She grabbed my shoulder and yanked my from my turn.

"Hey! What the hell?" I said.

"What do you -" she paused mid insult. "Oh."

"Oh?" I said.

"You were in the play, weren't you?"

"Yes." I hid the eye roll, about to turn back around.

"You took that role from my daughter, did you know?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Ok? Sucks to be her."

I brushed her hand off of my shoulder and laughed as I turned away. The crowd at the front had thinned some and I was able to break free and open the front door.

The cold, icy air hit my face in a sharp blast. After standing under hot stage lights for 2 hours, I welcomed the cold weather. I sighed and closed my eyes, letting everything wash over me just like the snow.

"Sam!" a voice called out.

My eyes snapped open. I knew that voice. I scanned the courtyard for a source until I realized it came from behind.

The stocky boy with broad shoulders and dark hair was gliding through the snow carrying a large bouquet of multicoloured daisies. He stopped in front of me, lips quirked to the side in a small smile.

"Freddie!" I said. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Well hello to you too, Sam." He laughed.

I smirked. "Hello."

"Hello," he said. "You were really good."

"You're only saying that because you know I would beat you up otherwise."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I genuinely think you were amazing. You should have seen some of the people in the audience. They looked in awe of you and I'm pretty sure a few people cried."

"They were probably crying because of how awful I was," I said.

I shook his head. "Oh no," he said. "That was only when that really tall redhead came on stage and stunk up the place."

I laughed. "Oh my God. So I'm not crazy? She is awful?"

"People cringed when she came onstage."

"Ooh that's not good!"

He smiled, then looked me over. "Aren't you cold?"

"I didn't expect to be outside for long. Here," I said, handing him my bag in his already full hands. "Hold this."

He shifted the flowers so he could grasp the bag. I shrugged into my coat, buttoned it up, and pulled mittens from the pockets. I took my bag from Freddie and slung it over my shoulder. The daisies came next.

"These are for you," he said.

"I figured," I said, scrunching up my features. "But what use do I have for flowers?"

"They look really nice on display in a vase," he said slowly, as if I were slow myself.

I rolled my eyes. "I don't own vases."

"Your roommate probably does."

I sucked in a breath. I was going to have to tell him about my current thing with Jenna, wasn't I?

"My roommate is myself," I said.

"What?" he asked.

"Come. I'll show you."

I grabbed his arm and yanked it until he followed. He grumbled, wondering why we were staying in when we should be out getting food and celebrating my first show. I just rolled my eyes and continued to walk. He matched my pace, rubbing his hands together as snow began to fall around us. I dropped his wrist and pushed open the doors to the apartment building that was across from the theatre complex.

Inside, my ears began to regain their feeling, the tips still slightly red, matching the red tip of my nose. I rubbed my hands over my face until both my cheeks and fingers were warm.

"Jesus, it's cold," I said.

"I know," Freddie said. "Apparently they get really harsh winter's here. Not sure how excited I am for that."

I wasn't about to tell him that I loved the snow. I hated the cold but I felt like there was something so magical about snow fall. To him, I probably seemed like more of a rain person. Maybe even thunderstorms and torrential downpour. Maybe that was more my style to him.

I walked through the empty lobby of the building. I didn't understand where everyone was. Usually there was at least someone relaxing or studying on the plush green chairs. Had they gone home for Christmas?

Just a few more days and I would be going home too. Though, I had to admit, home felt just a little bit closer with Freddie around.

I led him to the elevators and pressed the button for my new floor. Floor 18. It was a co-ed floor just above the dining hall and practice rooms. I'd learned that in the few days I'd spent in this room that it always smelt vaguely of food and always had some sort of music drifting through the floorboards. So I was always hungry and always slightly annoyed.

Freddie's eyebrows came together and he reached out towards the button I'd pushed.

"Weren't you on -"

"Yup," I said. "Now I'm here."

He opened his mouth to speak as the elevator came to a standstill. My biggest fear in these shitty elevators coming true. A beeping noise came from the intercom and the red illuminated number on the wall flashed.

"Shit," I hissed. I swallowed, trying to avoid showing any emotion to Freddie.

A voice came from the intercom, halting the alarm. "Yes, sorry," it said, deep and gravelly. "Sometimes the elevators don't respond well to the cold. It will pick up soon so just hold tight."

"Hold tight?!" I said, my voice squeaking.

The intercom silenced, as did the beep. The elevator stayed still.

"So why did you move?" Freddie asked, leaning against the wall.

"You're very chill," I stated.

He shrugged. "What else am I supposed to be?"

"I dunno? Maybe a bit freaked out that the elevator isn't moving?" I said.

He raised his eyebrows and laughed. "Since when are you afraid of elevators?"

"I'm not," I said, crossing my arms. "Just, you know, when they've stopped for no apparent reason."

"If I remember correctly, you've stopped an elevator or two in your day," he said.

"Yes, Benson, I stopped the elevator. This is out of my control."

"It needs to be in your control?"

"Is it a shock to you that I like control?"

He did his weird half grin and looked down at the floor. "Obviously not. I think I know how much you like to be in control more than anyone."

I stared at him, trying to make sense of his comment. I gritted my teeth and watched as he shrugged out of his jacket.

"Why are you taking off your coat?"

"Because the it's warm inside and I expect we'll be here for a while."

He sat down on the floor. I followed his lead, throwing my bag off of my shoulder and the flowers down on top of it. I sat cross legged in the opposite corner of the elevator.

"I just don't understand how you're so chill."

"What's my other option?" he said. "Crying and thinking I'm going to die? The elevator's stopped, we're not doing anything, the lights are still on, and someone is aware of the problem. We're good."

I took a deep breath then let it all out. Freddie was looking up at the panelled halogen lights above us. I followed his gaze to the one that had never been lit. For as long as I'd lived in this building, there was always one light in one elevator that was out. I prayed to some invisible power that the others wouldn't burn out.

"Do you have any food?" I asked.

Freddie's head snapped towards me. He smiled sadly and slowly shook his head.

"Nothing?"

"Do you expect me to carry apples in my pockets?"

"Not apples," I said. "But like a chocolate bar or something, maybe."

"Sam, you're the one with a bag," he said.

We both looked over to my messenger bag. I knew for a fact that nothing was in there. My wallet, makeup, a hat and gloves, the play script, the directors notes, a pack of gum, the school provided agenda that I never wrote in, a water bottle, a tampon, an assortment of pens, pencils, and markers, stray papers, and Advil were all there, but no food. The closest I got was gum. And technically water.

But neither of those would keep the hunger away for long. Especially when I hadn't eaten since noon due to nerves.

My stomach groaned. I searched through my bag until I found the gum, then threw it at Freddie. Somehow, he caught it without much effort.

"How did -"

"Why are you throwing things at me when you're the one who's hungry?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Nothing better to do. Besides it's just gum. Not going to make me any less hungry."

"Well actually, it tricks -"

"Don't you start throwing science at me!" I said.

He held up his hands in surrender and threw the gum on top of my bag. It landed on the edge and fell onto the flowers. I crawled over to them.

"Can you eat daisies?" I asked.

"I wouldn't."

"But like, only thing on earth left to eat, could I eat it?"

"Where did everything else go?"

"Doesn't matter," I said. "The flowers are the point. Can I eat the flowers?"

"You could probably eat seeds. But why would the flowers be the last possible thing on earth to eat? Where have the animals gone? What about the other plants? Are we past the point of cannibalism?"

"Are you suggesting I act out cannibalism in this elevator?" I asked. I straightened up and cocked my head to the side.

"Not real cannibalism," he said.

"What other kind of cannibalism could I act out? The fake kind?"

"Well," he said, a flush coming over his face. "Haven't you heard the joke about ejaculation and cannibalism?"

I looked down at the floor of the elevator and tried unsuccessfully to hide my laughter. It came undone when I snorted and wound up in a fit of giggles.

"Oh my God," I said.

"Wasn't that funny of a joke," he said, laughing himself.

"Coming from you it is. My God. No, Fredwardo, you're not getting a blow job."

"Wasn't asking," he said, though a smirk was on his lips.

I knew why. I knew exactly what he was thinking of. The last time we were stuck in an elevator, even though it was my doing actually stopping it, that may have been exactly what happened. If those walls could talk.

"You know," he said. My gaze drew over to him then followed where he was staring. "I think someone may have already acted on that."

Sure enough, there was a whitish-yellow stain on the floor in drops the size of a quarter. I wrinkled my nose.

"I'm just going to pretend that that's ice cream and be thankful that it's on your side of this cage."

"Cage..."

I rolled my eyes and looked at the flowers again. I guess I wouldn't eat them. But I probably wouldn't be putting them on display either. Common courtesy was nice. Giving me flowers after a performance was that common courtesy. A part of me hoped it was something he'd continue even if I would throw them out once I got back to my room.

"So why daisies?"

"You hate roses."

"I don't hate roses."

"Roses, trains, nerds, Galaxy Wars, low fat fat cakes, cheerleaders, morning people, mornings, birds, specifically pigeons, overusing scientific words, tofu, days that are too sunny, being pretentious, drums, pep rallies, know it alls, authority figures, me, needles, tequila, essays, work, cheaters, babies..."

He began listing everything I hate off, counting on his fingers. I was both mesmerized by the fact that he knew all of this and disgusted by the fact that the list was so long. He wasn't wrong about a lot of them.

"I don't hate you," I said. "Or babies. Or trains. Trains can crash. That's fun."

"Never forget the model train incident," Freddie said, making a cross with his hands.

I shook my head and laughed.

Silence filled the elevator for a moment. I closed my eyes and basked in it. Silence was a welcome change to projecting on stage and constantly being on. For a moment, I forgot I was in an elevator. I forgot Freddie was sitting next to me. I forgot all of the petty drama that had consumed my life.

And then the moment was gone.

"So why floor 18?"

I opened my eyes. My gaze landed on a small white card in with the flowers.

"What's this?" I asked, grabbing the card.

"You're avoiding my question," he said.

I held up a finger to him and flipped over the envelope. It was smaller than the ones in the box he'd given me. My name was scrawled across the front in the printing I had grown so used to. I ripped at the sides and slid the card out.

"Sam," I read aloud.

"Sam!" Freddie groaned. "You don't have to read it out loud!"

I shooshed him then continued. "I'll preface this as a letter and tell you to open this when your first performance is over. Hopefully you're opening this after it! I guarantee, 100%, you kicked ass! Congratulations, Sam! Please enjoy these flowers as your first ever bouquet (but not the last) after a performance. You're a star!"

I looked over to him. He smiled then dropped my gaze. A reddish tinge was on his cheeks. I swallowed.

"Thank you for that load of bullshit," I said. I ruined the moment. But I was well aware I ruined the moment. I couldn't have another thing in an elevator.

He laughed. "It's not bullshit."

"It's cheesy as hell though," I said.

"My specialty," he said. He grinned but he still wasn't looking at me.

I leaned against the wall and faced Freddie, stretching out my legs so my feet touched his.

"You seriously don't have any food?"

He shook his head. "Sorry."

I sighed. "Floor 18?"

"Floor 18."

"You want to know why I'm on floor 18?"

"Oh by all means," he said. "Why are you on floor 18?"

"Jenna had me reassigned," I said.

Freddie turned to face me and moved his back to the wall opposite mine. His eyebrows raised.

"Reassigned?" he said. "So you've got a new target now?"

"Shut up," I said.

"How'd she get you reassigned?"

"So you know how she ruined my stuff twice?"

"Yeah, so this just happened then?"

"Yup!" I said. "I got kicked out on Wednesday."

"Kicked out?"

"Of the room," I said.

"How?

"I got kind of annoyed by her and all of her bullshit so I returned the favour."

"You trashed her room?"

"Our room," I said. "And no. I just cut up some of her things that were... Unsightly."

"And then?"

"And then she told the RA and I told the RA what she'd done and the RA decided we were toxic."

"You were toxic?" Freddie laughed. "Didn't I call this back in September?"

"You thought I was going to kill her. So no, you didn't call it."

"I didn't mean actually kill," he said, hitting my foot with his. "So how'd you swing the new room?"

"Because it's a crappy small little thing with one window at the end of the party floor and always smells like food."

"So the bachelor pad sucks?"

"Bachelor pad sucks. It sucks balls. This one is literally a box."

"Why didn't Jenna get the box?"

"Because she's rich and Daddy would never hear of it."

We knocked feet again. He made a noise in his throat. "Sorry."

"It's okay," I said. "Least I don't have to deal with Jenna anymore."

"True," he said. "Unless she comes to kill you in your sleep."

"Or I fulfill your prophecy."

"I know you wouldn't actually kill her," he said.

"Hey!" I said. "I know I don't have to deal with her anymore, but I still kind of want to mess with her."

"Sam..."

"I still have to pick up some of my things; when we get out of this elevator, do you want to go flaunt our presence on Jenna's doorstep?"


	14. Chapter 14

**AN:** 1\. I've been on fanfiction for like 4 years and this was the first time I've experienced the whole mystical "reviews gone down" thing! Not fun when you want to read your reviews, let me tell ya! But now they are all up and I've read them all and I just want to say thanks again :)

2\. I'm sorry you've had to wait so long for this chapter. I know I promised every 2 weeks, but I have NOT HAD TIME TO WRITE:((((( and it sucks. BUT I haven't had time to write because I got a new job and it's relevant to what I want to do with my life and everything I could have ever asked for and more. So yeah, I'm pretty happy. I've also been super super busy with school so just not a good combo for time. But I've got break soon so yay! Trying to get these out ASAP but watch my profile page for any updates on when my chapters will be up. Love you all!

And

3\. Who watched Gilmore Girls yesterday? Oh my God, right? Those last four words... Felt so good to be back in Stars Hollow guys!

It's Christmas in the story! And we're nearing close to it now. So Merry Early Christmas, everyone!

 **Open When...**

It's Christmas!

I stood out on the fire escape of the apartment, wrapping my arms around my body, attempting to keep in all my heat in the cool Seattle breeze. My hair whipped around my face, giving me a thin veil from the wind. The weather forecast had predicted no snow. No white Christmas. Maybe a chance of freezing rain. From what I could tell, the weatherman was right. There was no snow, but the clouds that covered the sky suggested rain might come soon.

As I'd gotten older the idea of Christmas became more and more null to me. I weighed out the Christmases I'd had and realized that more were bad to me than good. I only expected the bad ones now.

Carly coming home for Christmas had been such a nice surprise, but knowing she was going back to Italy and not staying in the states was less than pleasant. She was going back to Italy for the first month, then opted to travel with Trevor until June, when she'd return home. Something told me that she'd extend her travel. Some weird, awful, sadistic, sad part of me assumed that she probably wasn't ever going to come back.

Seattle or the world? I'd pick the world.

I looked over the city. I wanted out. I wanted to travel and be free like Carly was able to do. But I had no means for that. The only way I'd been able to travel was through iCarly and now that that was done, I had no way out.

I realized, while staring into the apartment of the couple across the way, that New York was starting to feel a lot more like home than Seattle ever had. It was a weird feeling considering how against New York City I'd started out at the beginning of the semester. But I guess, maybe, somehow, I was coming into my own.

The balcony seemed smaller than I remembered. It felt colder too. I sat down on the metal stairs, feeling the cold seep through the fabric of my dark jeans. Everything here felt different. Even my mother felt different. She'd hugged me when I got home before promptly ignoring me for some other guy. I'd spent most of my time at Carly's, not caring that she wasn't home, just wanting a friendly space. Spencer, Gibby, and Freddie weren't bad company either. I'd missed them all so much. But everything was different. Everything.

I guess when you leave a place for so long then come back to it, you can't expect everything to feel the same. But I didn't expect to feel so out of place.

I sighed and pushed back my hair, wanting nothing more than to be back in New York. Jingle Bell Rock drifted up from the apartment below the fire escape. Their windows were open. They had been blasting music for the past twenty minutes, as long as I'd been out here. I'm sure they'd had it on all night, though.

I reached into the inside pocket of my coat, grasping the letter I'd taken from the Freddie box before leaving the city. It was red and green. One of the first I'd laid my eyes on the first time I opened it. I knew even then that its only purpose was for Christmas. Freddie had written in gold across the front of the envelope, a difference from the other black handwritten ones.

I opened it, pulled out the card, and shoved the envelope underneath my thigh. On the stiff card stock was a red mug of hot chocolate and a green mug of tea. They were anthropomorphized, smiling and cuddled into each other, both steaming. "Warm Wishes" was written across the front of the card. Inside I was greeted with "Merry Christmas!" in large, bolded text and a mass of glitter that the wind blew into my face, hair, and down my coat and shirt.

"Shit," I said, attempting to dust myself off, but knowing it was futile with glitter.

"I'll be honest," Freddie said, climbing through the window and making me jump at his sudden appearance. "I didn't expect that to happen."

"Don't you usually send glitter bombs to people you hate?" I asked.

"It's not a glitter bomb, it's just festive glitter! Confetti. You weren't supposed to open it outside, though."

"Would you rather I dump it on Carly's carpet?"

He shrugged. I watched him zip up his brown leather jacket, the fabric stretching over his biceps. I looked down at the slats on the fire escape. Glitter clung to the spaces between. My mind betrayed me and I thought of the last time Freddie and I were alone out here. I thought of being pushed up against these stairs, the metal hot against my skin even though it was the middle of the night. I thought of how tight we held each other after all was said and done, skin against skin.

"How long have you been out here? It's chilly," he said.

"Not as bad as New York," I replied. I knew my nose and cheeks were probably red at this point. I could barely feel my fingers, they were stuffed deep into my coat pockets. I cursed myself for only bringing a hat out with me.

He noticed me shivering and handed over his gloves. I shook my head before realizing they were an additional pair to the ones on his own hands. I tucked the card under my thigh and put on the gloves.

"Were you watching me?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Not really, I got here when you opened the card. Just came to find you. I figured you'd be outside somewhere. You usually do that when you want to escape."

I flushed, though my cheeks were already red. This was where he found me after the last iCarly.

"What're you escaping?" he asked.

"Christmas," I replied.

Freddie walked over to the window and sat on the ledge. He raised his eyebrows. "Christmas?"

"Christmas. Honestly I'm not a big fan."

"You don't like Christmas?" he asked. I rolled my eyes. "That's new."

"It's not new," I said.

"No? Why?"

"Why what?" I hissed.

"Why do you hate it? I assumed you liked it. You get free stuff and all."

"Well," I said, holding up a finger. "It's cold, for one."

"So naturally going outside solves that problem."

He smirked. I knew it was joke. I knew he was being sarcastic to try and draw me out of myself. But in spite of that, my walls went up.

"It's nothing," I said.

"What's wrong with Christmas?" he asked, nudging my foot with his.

I wrapped my arms around my torso and looked down at the street below. "Nothing formally. Christmas has just always sucked for me."

"Always?"

"I know you think I'm joking, but I hate Christmas."

"I don't think you're joking," he told me, touching my foot once more. "I'm just curious why you don't like Christmas. Was this one bad for you?"

I shrugged. "It was weird."

"That's fair." He sighed. I stared at his feet. "It's weird being back. It feels like the city has changed."

"Carly's changed," I stated. I looked up at his face, he grimaced, then nodded.

"She has," he said. "I don't know what it is about her though."

I wrinkled my nose. I didn't want to say it.

"What?" Freddie said.

"I don't know," I shook my head. "It just seems like she thinks she's better than us. More well versed or travelled or something. All she did was talk about Trevor and how great he is and how amazing it's going to be to travel with him. She didn't want to hear about any of the Juilliard stuff that I wanted to tell her. I'm excited about my life too which is so fucking rare... She's the one who got me to apply, you know? I just thought she'd care."

We were silent. Silver Bells drifted up from the apartment below. A car honked its horn on the street. Someone yelled "Merry Christmas" out their apartment window.

Freddie shook his head. "Yeah, same. It was all about her. On one hand, I'm glad to see her. On the other..."

I nodded. I knew about the other hand. On the other hand, I kind of just wanted her to go back to Europe and be all high class there. At least when she was in Europe, she asked about my life. It was weird for me to see this change in my best friend. It was weird not having seen her in over a year.

"So Christmas brings about bad changes then," Freddie stated.

"Sure," I said.

"You know you can tell me what you're excited about."

"I have."

"And what about what you hate?"

"I always do that."

"So then why do you hate Christmas?"

I scowled at him. I knew he was trying to get at something with this. His lips quirked slightly and he ran his hand along the brick wall.

"Can we just accept this as one of those Sam things that doesn't need explaining?"

"Sam," he warned.

"Freddie," I said, matching his tone.

He laughed and shook his head. I pushed myself off the fire escape stairs, pocketing the letter, and walked over to the railing. The light pollution from the city kept the sky lit up in a dull yellow, even at 9pm. I leaned against my elbows on the railing, my leather jacket creaking. Freddie sidled up next to me, leaning in the same fashion. I closed my eyes and took a breath. The musty scent of rain assaulted my senses when all I wanted was to smell him.

I flipped my hair onto my back and turned on him. "Okay. You really want to know?"

He nodded.

"Christmas sucks," I said. "It's awful. I'm pretty sure Christmas is for those really perfect families who get each other a million things and sing carols and shit. That's not my family. My family does not do Christmas. I'm like 99.9% sure that I saw my dad leave on Christmas Day when I was 3. Some dude with blonde hair and a scar on his cheek was yelling at my mom while Melanie and I were just watching at the top of the stairs. He told her she'd never see him again and he hoped she came to her senses - that's all I remember. That's not the only guy that's been around though."

I pursed my lips, turning my back to him, not wanting to see his face. I began to pace the small enclosed area. "They'd give us gifts. My mom's boy toys would come around for Christmas and give Melanie and I candy or other random shit if they happened to be there. It was like they forgot it was supposed to be a special day or whatever. My mom literally did not give two shits about Christmas. She'd give us a blanket or something as a present then put a bucket of chicken on the table and leave. Because the men were more important."

"Sam," he said.

I couldn't stop.

"But of course, when she did actually care about something, it wasn't me. It was like she somehow arbitrarily picked one twin to care for. Because I wasn't always an awful person, she just made me one."

"You're not an awful person."

"She chose to give Melanie the bigger bedroom for Christmas. She chose to give Melanie Beauty and the Beast for Christmas when she knew it was my favourite movie. She chose to give Melanie those new pair of shoes when I got a hand me down. And then she gave Melanie the chance of a lifetime by sending her to boarding school. Melanie jumped at her ticket to freedom and I was stuck. I'm still fucking stuck."

"You're not stuck, Sam. You have so many options now. You -"

"I remember when I was 12 and Melanie was home for Christmas again, we both just stayed in our rooms that year. We had our own mini Christmas because mom was off with another guy. We've spent so many Christmases alone. We've spent more alone than we have where Melanie gets presents and I don't."

"Sam," Freddie said.

He didn't know the bucket of worms he was opening. I ran my hands along my pants as a paced, still avoiding his face.

"My mom loves abusive guys. She likes the thrill. She likes being pushed around. She likes pushing them around as much as they push her. And when you live in a house with men that are so violent and vulgar around all that time, you have to learn to be that way too. I'm good at running away. Because a butter sock doesn't do much when you're 10 and tiny and your moms boyfriend is 6 feet tall and putting up a Christmas tree and you drop an ornament which only makes him angry."

"Sam I didn't know-"

"No," I said, rounding on him and facing him head on. "You didn't. Because it's one of those Sam things. It's one of those things where you have this little inkling but aren't going to say anything. It's one of those things that you hope to hell isn't happening even though you know someone couldn't be this way without going through a ton of shit."

"Sam."

"It doesn't get any better when you grow up. You don't get any more respect. You get less. You get the guy who your mom brings home for Christmas who you've never seen before but is going to be there for dinner anyway. And you can tell she likes him because she's trying so hard, but you can tell he's scum because he's half her age and smokes like he has a fucking death wish. But you don't stay there because it's Christmas Eve and you're 16 and you don't have anywhere else to go and you wish Melanie was there because maybe she could help you, but you're stuck. And when your mom goes to the bathroom he forces his hands under your shirt and tells you your tits are better than your mothers."

"Sam!"

"So you punch him in the face and your mom takes his side because why the fuck would he do that? You must be making it up."

"Sam," Freddie said. He reached out and touched my hand. I closed my eyes, realizing how heavy I was breathing. I bit my lip, trying hard not to cry, trying to think of anything but Christmas.

My vision was foggy when I opened my eyes. Freddie hadn't moved. His facial features hadn't changed. His hand was still in mine.

"Christmas sucks," I said, my voice as shaky as I had ever heard it.

"Christmas sucks," he agreed. I bridged the gap between us, taking those few steps into his arms. He wrapped me into a hug. "I'm sorry Sam."

"If you ever say you're sorry for me again, I'll kill you," I said into his chest.


	15. Chapter 15

**AN:** Thank you kindly everyone!

It's so weird. I've gotten a bunch of reviews the past few days out of nowhere! You guys must be psychic and known that I was going to post today! This has been the least productive break for me writing wise. I thought I'd have time to get a few chapters out but MY GOD where has the time gone? I've been so freaking busy haha.

So thanks for sticking around! Thanks for getting me to 100 reviews! Here is chapter 15! Happy New Year :)

Read, Review, and Enjoy!

Open When...

You Get Back to School

 **January**

I slammed the car door and accidentally stepped into a pile of slush. Freddie was right. They did have harsh winters here. But even though the snow was past my waist, the sun was still shining, casting a pristine glow on all of the snowdrifts. I smiled as I shook off my boots.

Freddie plopped my generic black suitcase down next to me then leaned up against his car. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" he said.

I nodded, watching other students unloading their cars like I was now. I wrapped my hands around the handle of my suitcase, filled to the brim with chunky sweaters and jeans. All I got for Christmas this year.

"I guess they got a white Christmas here," Freddie said.

"They must have," I replied. "So, see you in April?"

He turned to me, eyebrows drawn together. He hadn't expected me to end the conversation so abruptly.

"Yeah," he said. "April. Later, Sam."

We hugged for shorter than a second. Freddie walked over to the driver's side door and got in his car. I stepped away from it and waved as he drove off.

I exhaled.

Only when I could no longer see his car, did I begin to walk towards my building.

Freddie and I had started the 3 day trek back to New York (and Boston) the day after New Years - January 2nd. Driving cross country was apparently less expensive than getting a cheap flight. It just meant we took turns driving, slept in the car, and chipped in for gas money. It also meant we had to spent 3 days together alone in a metal box. And while that 3 day trip had been fine in September - long, but fine - it was awkward now. Maybe I made it awkward for myself. I wasn't entirely sure.

I knew I pulled away from him. I clung to him on the fire escape for over an hour. We only came in because Carly called Freddie demanding to know where we were. After that call, I went home, feeling stupid for being so vulnerable. I cried into my pillow that night and woke up feeling even more dumb than I had when I went to sleep. I also felt weak. Incredibly weak. All I wanted to do was take back everything I had said about Christmas. So I texted him, telling him to forget it all. I knew he wouldn't. I knew that was impossible. But I could at least pretend.

It was hard to pull a suitcase along ice and snow covered ground. I'd stopped and started multiple times. Each time cursing myself for being so rash with Freddie. Each time wishing that he was walking beside me so we could make fun of each other for having to try so hard. But I was being stupid again. I was pushing him away again. I was putting up my walls again. And it came at the price of good company and conversation.

I groaned and lugged the suitcase over the step into the apartment building. Warm air enveloped me. I sighed. The road trip had made me so stressed out. I felt like every time Freddie looked at me now, he would pity me. I avoided looking him in the eyes. I didn't want to see it. Instead I poked fun at his driving habits and awful singing. Being in the heated lobby gave me an odd sense of calm. I wouldn't have to deal with him for a few months. Not really. Not if I didn't want to.

But at the same time, I did want to. I closed my eyes and shook my head. Screw it. I could manage for a few months.

I took the elevator up to the 18th floor and walked to the end of the hallway where my boxlike bachelor pad lay. I fished through the pockets of my suitcase until I found my key and stuffed it into the door. It unlocked with a rusty click and I yanked at the lock to get my key back. I was going to break down this door by the end of the semester. Of course I get the shitty room.

I threw the key down on the small, square, wooden front table, shrugged out of my coat, and slammed the door behind me. I headed into the kitchenette and checked my cupboards. Nothing. The only thing in them was a package of crackers. I shrugged and pulled them out, before walking to the other side of my room where the bed lay.

There was no division in this new room. It was a square. The bed was against one wall with a dresser at the foot, the kitchen against the opposite wall with a small space for a round table that doubled as a desk. Across from the front door was another door that led to the bathroom. The bathroom was narrow with tiled blue walls, the sink and toilet on one side, the bath/shower on the other. I still couldn't figure out how to rid the mirror of streaks. Nothing I did worked. Nothing about this room worked.

I sighed and flopped back on my bed, pulling the sheets I'd left here during the break around me. I snacked on the crackers and stared at the concrete wall in the kitchen. Everything was so bland. At least Jenna hung artwork. I had nothing. All I had was the music that came up from the rooms below.

Someone was usually playing. No one was today.

I sighed and stared up at the ceiling. I kind of missed the little spider web in the corner of the old room. This room was just so white. Every square inch. Even the cupboards. If I wanted colour I had to go into the bathroom. It was quickly becoming my favourite room, solely because of the slight deviation in colour. And the window. The only window in my room was in the bathroom. I had to cover it with cardboard when I first moved in because I didn't have any curtains. It wasn't like anyone could really peek into the window being so high up, but it did give me some peace of mind while changing and showering.

My phone buzzed. Freddie.

 _A Fatcake truck crashed and now there are Fatcakes all over the road. Want one?_ 12:17pm

 _I smirked._

 _Lol I'll take them all!_ 12:17pm

I imagined Freddie stuck in traffic, laughing at the Fatcakes and thinking of me. The fact that he still thought of me even though I was so awful to him... I swallowed and sat up in bed. The cardboard box with my name on it laid on one of the kitchen chairs. There was a letter in there for this situation. I was sure of it.

I scrambled out of bed, leaving the crackers behind. The box was fraying on the edges and weighed significantly less, but still smelt like fresh paper and Freddie's cologne. I pulled out a blue envelope and leaned up against the kitchen counter.

"Open When... You Get Back to School"

I tore into the envelope and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Unfolded and uncreased, it shone in gold with a ceil of certification. I shook my head.

It read: "Congrats on making it to semester 2! You're a star!"

A part of me wanted to frame it and hang it up on the asylum walls so I could laugh at it whenever I saw it. Another part of me just wanted to rip it up. I compromised with myself; taping it to the fridge. Prime viewing spot, but would also get beaten up eventually. I admired my work and turned on my heel to get back into bed when a knock sounded on my door.

"Nobody's home," I yelled through the door.

"That's not very convincing," a voice came.

I knew the voice. I groaned. He wasn't going to go away.

"How do you know where I live?" I asked, opening the door to Flynn on the other side.

His eyebrows raised. "Hello to you too."

He tried to step past me. I maneuvered myself between the door and him. He rolled his eyes.

"Student directory has all the room numbers and floors for everyone," he said.

"I'm pretty sure you can't just go through all the personal info for everyone," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "And that makes you sound like a serious creeper anyway."

"I'm not a creeper," he laughed. "I just wanted to make sure you got my flowers."

"Your flowers?"

He nodded. "I left you flowers after your first show. I was going to give you them in person but I saw you with that guy so I just dropped them off here."

I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes. "I never got any flowers."

"You think I'm lying about the flowers?"

"I don't know what to think."

"I'm not lying about the flowers," he said. "I don't know where they would have gone."

"To the land of invisible and non-existent plants?"

"Someone must have taken them."

"Who would have taken your flowers? Seriously? Who on this floor would want the flowers at the end of the hall?"

"Who wouldn't?" He smirked and bounced his eyebrows up and down. I rolled my eyes and tried to close the door on him. "Sam! Wait!"

"What?" I said through the crack.

He met my eyes. "I promise to give you new flowers if you let me take you out for lunch."

"I don't want your flowers," I said, feeling my stomach gurgle and loving the option of food that wasn't crackers.

"Okay," he said. "What about lunch?"

I opened the door wider. "You'll pay?"

He nodded and I grabbed my coat.


	16. Chapter 16

**AN:** Hey guys! Sorry this has taken FOREVER to go up.

2017 has not been kind to me so far. I won't go into details here or I'd go on and on and on... Just know that I've severely lacked the motivation to write this. I still love this idea and this show, I'm just lacking.

I'm so glad people are still reading and sending me reviews and all that jazz. I'm so glad that people are liking this and disliking characters I want them to dislike. AND I'm so glad that a few people sent me birthday messages back in February! SO THANK YOU ALL! Everyone still following along deserves a medal because I love you all and reviews make me feel really happy when I feel really crappy.

So here's chapter 16!

Sorry for the wait. But I'm writing again so hopefully the next few will be up soon :)

Oh and Happy Mother's Day to all the lucky momma's out there. Nothing but love for all of you!

Read, Review, and Enjoy!

Open When...

You're Hungry

 **January**

"So..." Carly said. "How'd the date go?"

I rolled my eyes. "It wasn't a date."

Carly crossed her arms on the other side of the world. We had our regular skype chat every 3 days at 5 o'clock my time, 11 o'clock hers. Today was one of those days. We'd been chatting for the past hour. She told me all about her travels and Trevor and everything fantastical in her life. I told her about school and living alone and Ashley's new boyfriend. After an hour, she finally asked about Flynn.

"No?" she said. "Does he know that?"

"We literally just ate together."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Did you kiss him?" she asked. "Did he give you that look where you know he's interested? Did you flirt with him? Are you going to go out with him again?"

I groaned.

"Carly..." I said.

She sighed. I ran my hands along my legs, both for something to do and because my room was always freezing. I pulled the fuzzy blanket that Freddie had given me for Christmas around my legs.

"Come on," Carly said. "This guy has been after you for months and I know you like him too."

"I don't like him," I said. "He's a bit of a prick. He just owed me food."

"Right."

"Carls," I said and smirked. "You know me. You know I would do anything for food."

She nodded. "Yeah, I do. But I also know that this isn't the first time you've mentioned him and you only talk about guys when you're into them."

My hand involuntarily shot out towards the screen. "You're the one who brought him up!"

Carly rolled her eyes and walked out of frame. I stared at her sunny bedsheets. Yellow with intricate leaflike designs. Her dad had bought them for her when she had come to Italy, and though she didn't like them too much, she pretended she did. Her room shone brighter than the one back home. Windows lined one wall entirely, floor to ceiling. The yellow sheets and walls only added to the sun that beamed through the windows, or in this case, the streetlights that streamed in through her opened curtains. Carly came back on screen holding a black book. She opened it to the front page and turned it to face me.

"See this?" she said.

"Blurry pictures?" I said, squinting at the page that she couldn't keep still.

She laughed. "It's a photo album."

"Yeah," I said. "That much I've gathered."

"I made it when Trevor and I first started going out and I've kept it up since then."

"And...?" I said. "What's the point of showing me now?"

Carly shrugged. "I thought you might like to see it. Give you some hope that you might find someone like Trevor."

I stared as she flipped the pages of the book, showing me pictures of her adventures with him. My stomach soured. Something inside of me twisted. I tried to keep my face impassive. I tried to make sure that the annoyance creeping up my spine and making my fingers clench under the blanket didn't show. I tried to breathe normally, like I wasn't taking sharp, deep breaths to keep from slamming the laptop shut.

There was no relevance to her showing me these pictures apart from the fact that she wanted to show off her relationship. Flynn was not my Trevor, whatever the hell that even meant. Sure, they'd been going out for like 5 or 6 months, but Carly acted this way with everyone. She attached on to all of her boyfriend's in a matter of seconds, claiming she loved each of them, and then claiming she didn't know what love was once she met a new match. And while I knew all of this, her grinning and pointing out special moments in "Carvor" history hit me harder than her just being stupid and love struck. In the back of my mind, somewhere, somehow, something resonated that she just wanted to flaunt what she had and what she'd done, while diminishing my own life.

My cheeks tinged pink as I realized my own stupidity. When did I get so insecure? Even though I can recognize my own insecurity, doesn't mean I'll admit it to someone else. Or really even fix it...

I closed my eyes and rubbed at my temples, forgetting that she could see me too.

"Sorry," Carly said. "I'm boring you."

"No," I said. She closed the book and put it down on her bed. I mentally sighed in relief. "Just have a headache. I'm hungry."

"Oh shoot! It's dinner time there, isn't it? You haven't eaten, have you?"

I shook my head. I hadn't eaten since lunch. Maybe that's why my stomach was twisting and bubbling. Maybe that's why Carly was annoying me so much.

God, I could really go for some fried chicken.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm gonna go get something to eat."

"Okay! I'll text you tomorrow!"

"Bye."

I closed the Skype screen and my laptop, then pushed myself up from my bed. I had no food in my dorm, but at this time of day the dining area would be packed.

I groaned. "Come on," I said.

Why do I never remember to hoard food from downstairs in my room?

I stomped into the kitchenette and tore open all the cupboards. Nothing. Nothing except peppermint herbal tea that did me no good without a kettle. I rubbed my hands over my face.

I could order a pizza... If I had money.

Wait.

The box.

The box was my saviour. Based on the previous envelopes, it probably had money or gifts cards or something that I could eat in at least one. But what one would solve my problem right now?

I stalked back to my bed and pulled out the box. Old habits die hard. I had no one to hide the box from, yet still left it under my bed to gather dust. I placed it on top of my blankets and it yanked open. The letters were dwindling slightly, but there were still a fair amount to sort through. I skimmed until I found a thick envelope labelled, "Open When... You're Hungry."

Yup. This is it.

I ran my fingers along Freddie's neat printing, before sliding them along the top to rip the seal. The inside was lined with stacks of plastic and paper. I raised my eyebrows and dumped out the contents. Gift cards and cut out coupons made a small pile on top of my messy sheets.

My mouth dropped.

What the fuck?

I picked up a gift card. $15 to Starbucks. Another card. $15 to McDonalds. Another card. $15 to Cold Stone Creamery. Another card. $20 to KFC.

I reached for my phone underneath the pile of coupons and sheets. I didn't give myself time to think about how I hadn't spoken to Freddie since that awkward drop off two weeks ago and even more awkward Christmas conversation. I dialled his number and pressed speaker phone.

"Hello?" came Freddie's voice on the other end of the line.

"Where the hell did you get the money for all of this?" I asked.

"Sam?" he said. "What?"

I rolled my eyes, shoved the box onto the floor, and plopped down on my bed. "The box," I said. "And yes, it's Sam. Who else would it be? Don't you have caller ID anyway?"

"The box?"

"Freddie." I groaned. "You know exactly what box I'm talking about."

"Oh, that box!" he said. I could almost picture him smirking.

I paused. I waited for him to say something. I knew he was bating me.

"How did you afford this?" I whispered, placing my hand on my forehead.

Freddie sighed. "I have money, Sam."

"Why would you spend it on me? What have I done besides casually try to murder you that would warrant your money?"

"You're my friend," he said.

"So you did this for all your friends?"

Silence. Then: "No."

"So then why me?"

"Because I know you."

"You know a lot of people."

"No, I mean, I know you. You don't make friends easily and you kind of isolate yourself so -"

"I make friends easily. What're you talking about? I probably have more friends here than you do at MIT!"

Freddie laughed. "Sam, you got kicked out of your old room because you and your roommate couldn't get along."

"She was crazy!"

"Right," he said. "Point is, I thought that you might need a friend in the form of some shitty letters."

I dropped my hand down to the bedspread and glanced at my phone, balanced on my chest. I shook away thoughts of Freddie's head resting there.

"Did you do this for Carly too?" I asked.

"No," he said.

It was a simple response to a not so simple question. A question that very thinly veiled what I was really thinking. Did you do this for Carly too? Am I more special than Carly?

"Okay," I said.

I wasn't sure what else to say. I still wasn't sure why he did this. I needed a friend, according to him. I was that pathetic, according to him.

My stomach growled. I grabbed my phone, placed it beside the coupons and gift cards, and sat up. A bright pink coupon caught my eye.

"I gotta go, Fredwardo," I said. "Later."

"Yeah, okay," he said and cleared his throat. "Later, Sam."

I heard the click of the call ending and watched my screen fade to black. I picked up the coupon and smiled.

"Buy one, get two free, Fatcakes. Don't mind if I do."


	17. Chapter 17

**AN:** I graduated and have a big girl job, guys! Here's to 2017 maybe looking up for me! (Even though there's only like a month left oops)

I'm so so sorry for the delay. Working hard on this. I'm definitely not giving up on my story, so don't worry about that. I've just had a rough go this year and I'm finally getting back into the writing grove. Thanks so much for your concerns, everyone. It's really sweet to be getting messages from people who only know me for writing this (or my Austin &Ally fic) asking how I am. I'm doing well. I can finally say that. Love you all! Thanks for continuing to read! So without further ado, here is Chapter 17.

Read, Review, and Enjoy :)

Open When...

It's Snowing!

 **January**

I pulled aside the small square of fabric masquerading as curtains in my bathroom that Ashley had given me. She swore it was just an extra bit of fabric she had lying around, but I knew better. The frill at the top gave it away. That was alright. I liked that she actually cared. I stared out the window. It had snowed nonstop the past 3 days.

The snow from early January had melted a few weeks ago, but Jack Frost decided it was time for a return. The snow fell rapidly past my window, making it almost impossible for me to see anything. I squinted to get a glimpse of a cobblestone walkway or leafless tree. But it was just a wall of white. Occasionally the white broke and small spots of black clad bodies could be seen dashing around daringly below. I'd made my decision to stay indoors the minute the sweeping sounds of cold wind woke me up. I glanced at my phone, turned off my alarms, and cozied myself up in all my blankets.

Thursday. I didn't have much up on Thursdays anyway. Contemporary Drama in the morning. I couldn't imagine anyone got out of bed for it. I never wanted to wake up and study obscure modern plays at 9am. This was my first week skipping. I figured I could afford it. At least I'd have an excuse and an extreme cold weather warning to support me playing hooky.

"Who the fuck goes out in this?" I asked the echoing walls of the bathroom before closing the curtain.

I turned back to my reflection in the mirror and was confronted with nakedness. Yes, I would be the only one to stand in front of a window totally naked for a good few minutes watching the snow, but my window is too high up for me to care. I fiddled with the dials on the shower until hot water came pouring out. I stepped in, drew the shower curtain, and basked under the warmth. I closed my eyes and let the water fall on my skin until it ran cold.

Bad plan.

The bathroom suddenly turned into the arctic. The cold water made me susceptible to the equally cold tiled floor. Against my bare feet, the tiles chilled me to the bone. I shivered and wrapped a towel around myself, then another around my shoulders, then another atop my head. I scrambled out into my box and yanked open my dresser drawers. I grabbed the first fluffy thing I could find. The sweater was over my head and on my body before I realized it was Freddie's. I'd stolen it on our journey back to the east. I still didn't know whether or not he knew I had it.

I dropped the towels and shoved on a pair of jeans, solely because all of my sweatpants were in a heap on the floor of the bathroom, waiting to be washed and I wasn't going back in there. I plopped back onto my bed and pulled my sheets around me, then scrambled to grab the pink fluffy blanket Melanie had given me in September. Even through my warm cocoon, I shivered. I cursed myself for forgetting to put on socks and not drying my hair. I closed my eyes and tried to will myself to be warm.

My phone buzzed. I felt around the mattress until I found it, then pulled it under my sheets. The light from the screen illuminated the different colour fabrics.

 _How's your snow day?_ 11:47am

I furrowed my brow and sent a note back to Freddie.

 _Snow day?_ 11:48am

I sat up in bed and picked up my laptop from the floor. My email dinged.

 _Dear All,_

 _Due to inclement weather and an extreme cold weather warning, our class meeting for today has been cancelled. I have adjusted the syllabus accordingly and look forward to seeing you all next Thursday._

 _Best,_

 _Professor Killbride_

I stared at the email and reread it five times. I'd been given a reprieve and I hadn't even got up early enough to be excited about it. My feelings conflicted over this newfound information.

 _All classes were cancelled here. Yours?_ 11:49am

 _I skipped... But yeah apparently_ 11:49am

 _Apparently?_ 11:49am

 _Just checked my email and prof cancelled_ 11:50am

I dropped my phone back on the bed and listened to the wind. What to do. What to do.

Sleep.

I put my laptop back on the floor, laid down, and closed my eyes. My phone buzzed on the bed, but I didn't care. It buzzed again. I opened an eye, shook my head, then closed it. I could feel the vibrations against my foot. Someone was calling.

"Fuck off," I said, pulling my pillow over my head and nudging my phone to the floor. It made a dull clatter on the rug. I groaned, but stayed put.

It wasn't long before I felt myself drifting. My body felt as though it was falling through the mattress and into some other world. The dream world. But it didn't stay there long.

Harsh, bounding knocks resounded on my wooden door, echoing through the small apartment. My eyes snapped open. I ran a hand over my face. The knocking came again, this time along with a voice.

"Hey, have you frozen to death or are you alive in there?"

I smirked as I threw myself out of the bed and picked up my phone. 12:30pm. Guess I slept a little.

For the third time, the loud knocking started. I opened the door before he finished, a scowl affixed on my face.

"What?" I snapped, unable to keep the sly grin from appearing.

He smirked. "Good to know you're alive! I was worried sick that you had died!"

"Oh, I'm sure," I said, stepping aside. He sauntered into the apartment and I closed the door. He hovered over me after I turned around. "What can I do for you, Flynn?"

"Do you have any idea of how we could warm up in this cold?" he asked, hands already travelling down my arms.

I followed his hands until they'd jumped to my waist. This was way more than friendship. But I can't say I mind...

"I'm sure we'll figure something out," I said, clashing my lips with his.

He moved fast. The gap between the door and my bed was bridged in seconds, lip lock never breaking. My back hit the rumpled sheets. I drew my legs up and he settled between them. His cold hands found their way to the hem of Freddie's shirt and skirted under. I shivered as his fingers traced the swell of my breasts. He grinned against my lips.

"You're not wearing a bra," came his husky voice.

"Wasn't expecting visitors," I whispered.

"Oh, yeah? You wearing any panties?"

I gritted my teeth. I wasn't expecting the question. It made my skin crawl and my mind travel back to my mother's flavour of the month asking me a similar question.

I hate that word.

Panties.

Fucking panties.

The word that all perverts use.

I swallowed and dug my fingernails into his back. He smirked and forced his lips against mine. I kissed back, only to prove to myself that I wasn't bothered.

His hands shrunk back. They moved back down to the hem of the shirt. I knew what he was about to do. I opened my eyes and watched as his hands lifted the fabric and exposed my body to the cool air. I closed my eyes as he broke the kiss to stare at my breasts. His hands danced on me a moment later. His lips tracing kisses down my neck and onto my chest.

My mind travelled.

His hands hurried. His lips scattered. He pulled at the fabric of my jeans. Through his frantic, needy longing, my button remained closed. He placed kisses around my belly button. Impatient he abandoned the quest to take my pants off and slipped his fingers down the front of my jeans.

My eyes snapped open and I scooted backwards on my bed. I let the sweater fall back into place, leaving a small space of skin still visible.

Flynn blinked, trying to make sense of my sudden action. I ran my hands over my face as he spoke.

"You know," he said. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were a virgin."

"I just hate the word panties," I said, barely above a whisper.

"Panties?" He laughed. "That's fucking weird."

"Yeah." I grimaced. "It is."

Silence fell between us and I swung my legs off the bed and began to push myself up. Flynn touched my arm to stop me.

"So, we're done then?" he asked.

"Can I ask you something?" I said, whipping my head towards him. He didn't say anything, so I continued. "What are we? Your girlfriend broke up with you in, like, October. You keep showing up here, but all you ever do is make out with me. I think we went on a date once, but you never said. I'm not sure what's going on because we never talk. Are you going to ask me out or not?"

"Whoa," he said.

I shook my head and tried to take back everything I just said. Dammit. Shit. Fuck.

"Sam," he said, but I wouldn't look at him. "Sam, look at me, maybe?"

I rolled my eyes and stared through him. "What?"

"I like you. And if you'd be into it, then would you be my gir-"

A knock on the door stalled him. He groaned as I got up and opened the door to Ashley.

"Hey!" she said. "It's snowing!"

"It's been snowing for a week," I replied, monotone.

Ashley was obsessed with snow. Having grown up in Texas, it wasn't something she was used to. I was already over snow. It was pretty at first, and yeah, it was still a bit pretty now, but Jesus, it was cold. Cold and redundant. I could do without a snowdrift on my way to class.

"I know!" she said, beaming. "Isn't it great?!"

I rolled my eyes and let her in my apartment. She took note of Flynn on the bed, shrugged, and sat down next to him.

"What should we do?" she asked.

"In the snow?"

"Yes!" She bounced on the bed like an excitable three year old. "You have a note about snow, I swear."

"A note?" I asked.

"Jeez," Flynn said. "The notes? The letters?"

"Yeah, the letters!" Ashley said. "I remember one time at your old place you talked about the letters. I think we were drunk. I went through the box with you and there was one with white sparkles on the envelope. That was about snow, right?"

I blinked. "I don't know, maybe."

Ashley grinned while Flynn grimaced. I sighed and crouched by the side of my bed. I pulled out the box, opened it, and found a white, sparkly envelope immediately, then threw it at Ashley. She tore into it like a ravenous bird. A piece of paper, a packet of marshmallows, and hot chocolate mix fell out. Ashley picked up the paper.

"Dear Sam," Ashley read. Flynn rolled his eyes. "If you're reading this, it's snowing. It's probably been snowing for quite some time if you've been trapped inside long enough to pick this little old letter up. I only included this in the box because I remember a conversation we had last year on New Year's Eve, or I guess it was New Year's Day."

I froze. I knew what conversation he was talking about. New Year's at Gibby's with Gibby's weird family and a shit ton of alcohol. New Year's that we spent in Gibby's bathroom, hiding from relatives, drinking, kissing, having sex as the new year rang in. What I remembered of that night wasn't appropriate for other people to read.

Ashley glanced at me, nodded, then looked back at the letter.

"Uh," she said. She brought her hand to the page, pretending like she'd lost her place. "So take this all with a grain of salt. We started babbling on about snow. From what I remember, it didn't make much sense. But there are 3 things I do remember. 1. If it ever snowed and snowed and snowed in Seattle we had to build a snow fort. A really epic snow fort. 2. After we built the snow fort, we had to make hot chocolate with all the marshmallows in the world. 3. Once the hot chocolate (with marshmallows) was made, we would have to take it outside and drink it all in our epic snow fort and hope the hot drink would keep us warm."

"How cute," Flynn said. "You guys sound like you're little children."

I pursed my lips. Somehow his jealousy turned me on at the same time as making me highly defensive. "We were drunk."

He raised his arms in defense.

"So today," Ashley read. "I encourage you to build a fort, make hot chocolate, and drink it in your fort. BUT you can't blame me if you get pneumonia. You can only blame Drunk Sam."

Ashley put down the letter and grinned. I snatched it off the bed before Flynn could and read the small section Ashley had skipped. "I think it's slightly relevant to mention that we were so drunk off our asses that we were lying on Gibby's bathroom floor completely naked, staring up at the ceiling that for some God awful reason was decorated with glow in the dark stars." I snickered, remembering our discussion on stargazing in our blissed out, post-orgasm-pre-hangover stupor.

Flynn's eyes darted to mine and I looked at Ashley who was zipping up her coat.

"Wait," I said. "You can't be serious about this!"

"Why not?" she asked "I've never built an 'epic' snow fort and I'm guessing you haven't either."

"Because it's 20 below and you can't fucking see a foot in front of you."

"So?"

I smirked. "You make a good point."

"Un-fucking-believable," Flynn said.

"Hey, don't be a party pooper," I said, heading over to my dresser to find a hat and scarf and a hundred other layers. "Don't come if you don't want to."

"I wasn't coming anyway," I heard him mutter under his breath. I scowled at the white wall.

"Do you have enough warm clothes?" Ashley asked. "I have extra if you need."

"That would be amazing," I said. She hurried out of my room, promising to be back in a second.

"So is this why you keep stopping me? Why you don't want me to touch you?" Flynn asked.

"What?"

"Because of him."

"Because of Freddie?" I asked, my voice taking on a shrill edge. Flynn stared through me, like this was the most obvious answer in the world. "No. Absolutely not."

"Really?" he said. "Because you keep his letters, you smile at his name, you have secrets that Ash skipped over when she read. Seems like you're pretty hung up on him."

"We're just friends," I said, my voice tighter than I intended.

"You're wearing his shirt," he deadpanned. "You don't do that unless it means something."

"I steal everyone's shirts."

"You have 3 of his."

"How do you even know that?" I mumbled, more to myself than him. "I only have one now."

Which was a lie, I had two, but I wanted to prove to him, yet again, that I wasn't in love with Freddie.

"Fine," he said.

I couldn't think of anything. I couldn't think of one thing that I could defend myself with because I knew he was right. I knew how I felt. But I closed my eyes tight and pushed down the feelings.

"Flynn," I said. "Be my boyfriend."

"What?"

"You heard me."

His face shuffled between confusion and happiness before finally landing with a huge grin. Then, he caught himself and his emotions, toned it down, took two giant steps towards me, and gave a one sided smirk.

"Well, Sam," he said, moments before kissing me. "That I can do."


	18. Chapter 18

**AN:** LOVE YOU GUYS! Also what? Surprise! It's Sunday! I'm only posting today because this is finished and I reallyyyyyy wanted to get it up there. So proud of myself, honestly. Hopefully I can keep this up!

Happy (not actual) Valentine's Day!

Read, Review, and Enjoy! :)

Open When...

It's Valentine's Day!

 **February**

"Seriously?" I said. "Are you joking right now, Carly Shay?"

She laughed. "Absolutely not joking. It's your first Valentine's Day together, you should show some skin!"

I ran my hands over my face and groaned. "Carly, I'm wearing a tank top right now and all you can see is boobs, if I wear a low cut dress, I'm not just going to be showing skin, I'm going to be showing it all."

"That is so not true!" she cried, standing up on the other side of the world. "You'll look good if you wear that."

"I don't even know why it's in my closet," I mumbled.

I did know. I know. I know why I bought it, I know when I bought it, and I know who I bought it for. Which was maybe more the reason why I didn't want to wear it for Flynn. It wasn't for him.

"Come on!" Carly whined. "Come on! You pulled it out for a reason!"

"I just pulled out all of my dresses," I said, looking down at the skintight, low cut, halter neck ivory dress. I remember wanting to impress when I bought it, but looking at it now made me wonder how I ever thought it could pull it off. "You're the one who fixated on this one. Besides I bought it like two years ago and I've gained the freshman 15 so I probably wouldn't even fit it."

"You're crazy," she said. "You have not gained 15 pounds and you could totally pull that off. Want a second opinion?"

"A second -? Whose opinion?"

Another window popped up on my skype screen and Freddie's confused face was in it. I internally screamed about how she added him without even asking me, especially because I wasn't even wearing a bra.

"Okay," Carly said. "Show him the options!"

"What?" Freddie said. His shirt was half unbuttoned and his hair was in all directions.

"Hello, by the way," I said.

"Hello," he said. "Why am I here? Options for what?"

"Why are you disheveled?" I asked.

"I'm getting ready," he said.

Carly gasped. "Oh my God! Do you have a date?"

A part of me hoped the answer was no, but the hair and the shirt suddenly made sense. This is how he got ready for nice dates. He put on a good button up and gelled his hair perfectly. I always liked when he left his hair without product, and he caught onto that and left his hair messy on a lot of our dates.

"Yeah, actually," he said, buttoning up the last 3 buttons on his shirt. "I do."

Carly shrieked and let out a string of "oh my god's". She grinned.

"This is so awesome! All three of us have Valentine's this year!" Carly said.

Freddie looked up from his buttons, eyes wide. "You have a Valentine?"

I blinked. Caught somewhere between insulted and embarrassed.

"Yes," I stated flatly. "Which, by the way, is more believable than you having a Valentine considering I have a boyfriend and you don't."

He pursed his lips. Alright, I chose to be insulted and defensive.

"Well I wouldn't have a boyfriend anyway..." he said. "When did you get a boyfriend?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it. Had I really not mentioned Flynn? I ran my hands over my face and tried to wrack my brain about the last time I talked to Freddie. We'd texted, but we hadn't called or FaceTimed each other in three weeks. I knew I hadn't mentioned Flynn in our text chats. Shit.

"Few weeks ago," I said.

"Wow, really?" he asked. "You didn't tell me. Didn't even know there was someone you were thinking of being with."

I bit my lip. "Yeah, well, what about you?"

"I just have a date," he said. "Second one, but still."

"So you're just hooking up with someone, then?"

He cringed away from the screen. "What? No. I don't just 'hook up' with anyone."

I wasn't sure what to make of his statement. Was he accusing me of hooking up with others or was he saying I was the only one he'd "hooked up" with?

"Okay!" Carly said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just dropped you guys on each other."

I froze. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know," she said. "You guys just don't seem to like each other's happiness when it's with someone else."

I stared down the screen. Freddie's eyebrows drew together and he let out a pronounced sigh. Oh, she knew exactly what she was doing.

"I have to go," I said at the same time as Freddie did.

Carly's mouth made a perfect "O" in shock. She shook her head violently and held up her hands in surrender.

"No, no, no, guys," she said. "I didn't mean that. It came out wrong."

No it didn't. She meant it. She knew what seed she was planting.

"I still have to go," I said. "I have to get ready."

"Did you guys get the Valentine's I sent you?" Freddie asked.

I backed away from my laptop, not expecting the question. Bitterness crept through my body. I had no Valentine from Freddie. He sent me nothing.

"Yes!" Carly said, producing a folded piece of card stock like the ones we used to pass out in grade school. "It's so cute! Thank you, Freddie!"

"You're welcome." He smiled. "Sam?"

I shook my head. "No?"

"I sent you one."

I felt his eyes drill into me. What? He nodded, tilted his head, and, was that a wink?

It's in the box. There must be a Valentine's Day envelope.

"Oh," I said. "Okay. Later, guys."

I exited the window before hearing their goodbyes and pulled the box out from under my bed. My phone buzzed.

 _You know what I meant, right_? 5:53pm

I smirked and sent Freddie a thumbs up. I sifted through the envelopes until I found a pale pink one. It's Valentine's Day, this has to be it, right?

I ripped into it. Nine Valentines folded and taped together with little heart stickers, and a piece of paper fell out. They were from a Disney Valentine kit. I could almost picture him picking up a box of Valentine's and addressing them to me.

One with Jasmine and Aladdin that said, "It's a whole new world with you, Valentine."

One with Lady and the Tramp that said, "Valentine, you're doggone perfect."

One with Tinkerbell that said, "My heart is all a-flutter for you."

One with a Heffalump, from Winnie the Pooh, that said, "You're the cutest, Valentine."

One with a dwarf, that must have been Happy, that said, "You make me happy, Valentine."

One with Ariel and Eric that said, "Together we make a splash."

One with the Mad Hatter that said, "I'm mad about you, Valentine."

One with the Sorcerer's Apprentice Mickey that said, "I'm under your spell, Valentine."

One with Tiana and Naveen in frog form that said, "You make my heart leap!"

Cheesy and awful, but they still made me smile. I picked up the piece of paper and unfolded it. Freddie's scrawling handwriting appeared between the lines.

"Hey Sam!

"Happy Valentine's Day!

"I know we're not a thing or together or anything, but it's still a day to tell the people in your life that you love them. Somehow you've become one of my best friends over the years. So today I just wanted to let you know that you're pretty great, even if you're not my Valentine.

"Freddie."

I read the letter. And reread the letter. And read it again. My fingers tingled and my stomach fluttered.

I'm pretty great.

I jumped at the knock on my door and dropped the letter. I got up in one swift motion and grabbed a sweater off a kitchen chair, pulling it around my shoulders so no one would see my chest. There was another knock at the door and I rolled my eyes.

Flynn was on the other side of the door when I yanked it open.

"Oh," I said. "Hi. You're early."

"I am." He grinned and stepped into the apartment.

"Like really early," I said. "You're not supposed to be here for an hour."

"Sorry, I was just excited to see you!"

I smiled and pecked his lips. "That's sweet."

"So do you ever wear a bra?" he asked, eyes trailing down to my nipples.

"Less sweet," I muttered. "I don't when I'm alone here. I don't need a boob cage on 24/7."

He sat down on my bed and nodded his head. He chuckled. "Boob cage. Sounds kinky."

"Wasn't intended," I said. "You're sitting on all my dresses."

He stood and turned around, eyes lighting up. "So many choices! Can I help you pick o-"

He froze. I followed his gaze to the Valentine's scattered overtop of the dresses, clearly from the torn apart pink envelope. Shit. His eyes roamed the bed until he found the letter. He grabbed it a moment before I was able to. Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

I snatched it out of his hands.

"Hey!" I said.

Flynn looked up at me, puzzled. A smirk played out on his lips, his brows furrowed, and his eyes blazed.

"Hey? You're the one saying hey?" He scoffed. "You've got to be fucking joking."

"I'm not fucking joking," I mocked. "It's my property. You ask first before you read someone's mail."

"You're standing here defending yourself reading a love note. Seriously? You're standing here telling me that you're serious? Fuck."

I stood there, silent. It was Valentine's Day, for fuck's sake, you weren't supposed to fight. I swallowed the insults I was about to throw his way and make the situation worse. I clenched my teeth to try and stop myself. I glared at the wall behind him. I balled my fists at my side.

"Like what the fuck are we even doing here if you're so in love with this Freddie guy? He made you a whole fucking sappy ass box of letters. Are you sure he's not gay? Cause that's something a giant pussy would do."

My eye twitched.

Ding.

"I dunno, Flynn, you tell me. What the fuck are we doing here on Valentine's Day yelling at each other? What the fuck are we doing here when you have massive jealousy issues when I so much as associate with anything that has a dick? What the fuck are we doing here when all you can do is insult one of my best friends?"

"Your so called "best friend" is writing you love letters."

"These aren't love letters!"

"Unbe-fucking-lievable."

"Does it make the argument better when you add "fuck" to everything?"

Flynn groaned, a loud sound that filled the quiet apartment, and stupidly, I laughed. I laughed because it was so stupid. I laughed because it was so dramatic. I laughed because it made no sense. He froze. He raised his eyebrows. He glared.

"You think this is funny?" he asked.

"Honestly?" I said. "Yeah, I think it's funny. I think it's funny because it's so stupid."

"I'm glad you think I'm stupid," he muttered and headed towards the door.

"When the hell did I say you were stupid? I said this was stupid and you know it is."

"This?! This meaning what?" Flynn asked. "This meaning us? What we're doing is stupid? If what we're doing is stupid, then maybe we shouldn't be doing it."

I blinked, then rolled my eyes. "Okay," I said. "You want to break up? Let's break up. That lasted _so_ long, didn't it?"

"I don't want to break up, but I don't want to be with someone who thinks this is stupid and doesn't respect the relationship."

Once more, I had to stop myself from laughing. He sounded like a snitty little toddler who didn't get his way.

"This fight. This is stupid. I respect the relationship, but my God, have some respect for me," I said.

He didn't speak. He backed up and say down on my bed. He looked down at his hands, curled them, then unfurled them. When he looked up, he was smirking.

"So," he said. "That was our first fight."

I pursed my lips and crossed my arms over my chest. How did he go from 0 to 100 and back to 0? Was he done? Is that the last time he'll fight about that? Likely not... But did I want to continue a fight on Valentine's Day? That shitty fucking commercialized holiday...

"I guess so," I said.

"So we should get going," he said.

"I have to get changed."

"Right," he said and looked over the dresses. "How bout this one?"

He held up the ivory dress. I inwardly grimaced. I couldn't tell him why I didn't want to wear that dress without making things worse. I took it from him, too tired to come up with a lie.

"Sure," I said, my heart sinking just a little. It wasn't for him, but my intended viewer would never see it. "I'll be right back."


	19. Chapter 19

**AN:** Heart eyes over hatable characters. I've been away the past few weeks so I missed the past few Saturdays. Here's a lovely lil chappy for ya! My Christmas and New Year's gift to you! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

New Year's Resolution: Write More.

Read, Review, and Enjoy :)

Open When...

You Got A Bad Grade

 **February**

"Soooo," I said. "How'd it go?"

"How'd what go?" Freddie asked.

I'll admit, maybe that's not the way to start a conversation. Maybe saying "hi" is a better opener. But I was mad and angry and pissed and needed a distraction. This was really the only thing I wanted to know from him and I knew it would give me something equally stupid to be mad at.

"The date," I said.

"What date?" Freddie asked.

I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. "Don't play dumb with me, Fredward."

"I'm not playing dumb," he said. I may have been mistaken, but I think he laughed too. "I genuinely don't know what date you're talking about."

"You go on that many dates, eh player?" I had every intention of saying that perfectly straight, perfectly serious, but I couldn't help but burst out laughing.

Freddie groaned. "Good to know that's so hard to believe."

I blinked. I let the silence fill the line as a response. Once a minute had passed, Freddie sighed.

"Okay," he said. "I know it's not that believable."

"Not even close," I said.

"What about you? Are you hoeing around?"

Silence. Once more. This time because I didn't know what to say. I didn't know whether to yell or hang up or somewhere between the two.

"Sam," he said. "That was a joke. I'm so sorry if you didn't - if I wasn't clear. I shouldn't have said that. Is there a female equivalent to a player that isn't derogatory?"

"I don't know," I said, bad mood creeping right back over me.

I balled up the piece of paper, that I'd already balled up moments before I called, between my hands, squeezing hard. The ugly crinkling noise filled the apartment. I'm sure Freddie heard it too. I threw it across the room where it landed next to the ripped up remains of my midterm.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I really, really am," I heard him say when I snapped back to reality.

I grit my teeth and swallowed.

"How was the date?"

"The Valentine's Day one?"

I didn't answer. Again. It seemed so obvious to me what I was talking about. There wasn't any other date he'd been on except this one. Carly hadn't heard anything about it and neither had I. My bet was that she never even existed.

Freddie sighed. "How'd it go? It didn't."

I laughed.

"It's not funny," he said. "It's actually kind of tragic."

"Tragic?"

"Yeah, the poor girl," he said.

I clenched my fist. Leave it to Freddie to have a story and then not tell it.

"Okay," I said, my voice tight. "What happened?"

"Well, I got to her dorm, which is in the same residence hall as mine, just two floors above," he said. Freddie's dorm was on the main floor of a four floor building. "That's how we met actually, I was on her floor with my roommate Noah, trying to wingman for him." I resisted the urge to make a joke. "And ran into her instead. Found out she's in engineering. Super smart and super pretty." I ignored the sting that came with her description. "But anyway, date night, she came to the door in sweat pants with tears streaming down her face."

"You're joking, Benson," I said. Deadpan.

"Serious," he said and I imagined his hands raised to show just how truthful he was being. "She was drunk. And not like, a cute, tipsy kind of drunk, like full blown plastered."

"What the fuck?" I said. "Why the hell would you do that if you knew you had a date?"

I was glad to channel my anger elsewhere to someone else.

"Apparently her friends had been 'joking' with her." I could almost hear the air quotes. "About her love life. They were saying she was bad at dating, she was going to ruin this, she was going to be forever alone... All of theses things. This was before the date. I guess she just felt the pressure the day of, got really sad and nervous, and had a little too much."

"That's rude," I muttered. "Her friends, I mean."

Freddie paused. I knew what he was thinking. It wasn't like I was much better or much nicer with people. But at least I knew not to kick somebody when they were down.

"So she was too drunk to go out," he continued. "And I told her we could reschedule. But then the next time we talked she explained that story to me and said that she was so embarrassed that she never wanted to see me again. So that's that."

"That's that," I said.

"How'd yours go?"

"My what?"

I played dumb. I matched the dumb that he played. I didn't want to explain to him how my Valentine's date was basically ruined because I couldn't stop thinking about him. Every time Flynn complimented me in that dress, which was a lot, he loved the dress, I would think about why I really bought the dress.

I bought the dress for Freddie to take it off of me.

And instead, I unzipped the dress myself when I got home that night, full of steak and chocolate covered strawberries, hair messy from making out in Flynn's room.

"Your date with... Flynn, right?"

"Yeah," I said. "Flynn. It was really nice!"

Freddie stayed quiet for a moment, then sighed. "So then why're you calling me?"

"What?"

"Forgive me if I'm wrong," he said. "You just have this habit of calling me when things aren't going well... I figured with the line of questioning and the agitation in your voice that, maybe, it had something to do with him."

I swallowed. He wasn't wrong. But he also wasn't 100% right.

"I got my midterm back today."

"Oh? That's the one I helped you study for, isn't it?" he asked.

I laughed. "Yeah, some good that studying did."

He groaned. A tiny groan. A groan of acknowledgement and annoyance.

"You'll get the next one! Maybe that's just not the best way for you to study. It works for me, but you've always been a more hands-on kind of person. Maybe we have to make a game out of it."

Maybe. Maybe we do.

"Thanks," I said. "Makes me feel really dumb. I had this. I totally thought I had this. And I can tell you all of the answers now. I just apparently didn't know them on the test."

I stared at the papers on the floor.

"You don't test well," he stated. "That's a thing. Like, test anxiety. It's possible you could have something like it. I mean, you never really tried in middle school or high school so you could be feeling all this pressure on you now because you actually have to do well to try to keep your place. You're pretty smart, Sam, I know you are. And I know you knew all that shit. You should go talk to your Prof. and see if you can do an extra credit or something. Is this the one that likes you?"

I swallowed the cry that threatened to come out. After the day I had, after being called stupid, I needed that confidence booster.

"Yeah," I said. "This is the one that likes me. She was really disappointed today when she gave it back to me. Expected better and all that shit. Asked me if anything was wrong or if she could do anything."

"You should take her up on it!"

"I should, but I was just so caught up in the moment and so shocked that nothing came out."

He paused, then sighed. "That's not like you, Sam."

"I know," I said. "I usually have such a smart-ass mouth."

"And you're quick on your feet. You always have something to say."

"Yeah, I don't know why I didn't."

I flopped down on my bed and pulled the covers up over my face.

"You should tell her what was up," Freddie said.

I groaned. "And what exactly was up, Fredward? That's, like, the worst excuse in the book."

"But it's not an excuse."

"Oh, shut up," I said. "I'm just stupid, that's the problem. I failed the midterm. Failed."

Silence. I thought I heard him gasp. Or suck in a breath or something.

"You're not stupid," he said. I could hear the ... Pain? in his voice. Maybe anger. He was restraining himself. "You're the exact opposite. You had a 3.75 GPA last semester. That's pretty damn good. Just don't - don't call yourself stupid."

"But I am," I whispered.

I immediately regretted it. I didn't want to be this vulnerable, not even with him, but I couldn't think of a way to backtrack. If I turned the conversation back to him, he'd know and turn it back to me. The only way to get out was to hang up. I pulled the phone away from my ear and almost pushed "end call" when Freddie stopped me.

"Who told you that?" he asked.

"What?"

"Who said you were stupid?"

I paused. A moment too long. "No one."

"You have to be quicker than that, Sam."

I do. But I sure as hell wasn't telling him the story and sure as hell wasn't telling him I believed it.

I ran into Flynn on my mopey way back to my room. And I was happy to see him and I thought he could make me feel better and I was wrong. I showed him my midterm.

"Well that was stupid," Flynn said.

Anger and shock passed through me. Then, somehow, stupidly, really stupidly, acceptance.

"You'll have to try and think smarter next time, babe," Flynn said.

Yeah, I will have to think smarter. I'll have to be smarter. Even though I'm stupid.

By the time I got back to my room, the anger had resurfaced. He. Called. Me. Stupid. But looking down at my test and my answers only confirmed his words. I was. So I ripped it up, threw it away, and opened Freddie's letter that I naively thought I would never have to open and only got more pissed off.

"What the hell is wrong with you, by the way?" I said to Freddie. I interrupted him listing off reasons why I wasn't stupid.

"And you're - What?" Freddie said.

"What's wrong with you? Who the fuck does that?"

"What?" he said. "Sam, I don't - did I say something? What did I do?"

"You sent me a letter with a fucking A+ on it. How the hell is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Wait," he said. "Did you read it?"

"Did I what?"

"Did you read it?" He laughed. I could picture his smug face and I wanted to punch it. "Like did you flip it over? There's a message on it."

I groaned with every fibre of my being and threw the covers off of me. I sulked over to the corner when my midterm and the crumbled A+ laid.

"Sam," It said on the back. "These are the only grades that you should ever get. But in case you don't get an A+, you should know that you aren't your grades. Your shitty mark doesn't and shouldn't define you. You are so much more than an A+, or a B, or a C, or a D, or an F. You are so much more. Whatever grade you got, it shouldn't make you feel like a failure. You are Sam Puckett and you are fucking awesome. Take that attitude with you to your text test and your next assignment and I promise, you will kill it!"

I stared at Freddie's words and my heart felt so full. I missed him. "Okay," I said. "There's nothing wrong with you, I'm just stupid."

"Sam," he said.

"I didn't even see this. That's stupid."

"That's blind, that's not stupid. You were angry and upset. I'm sure just seeing a giant red A didn't help you any. I should have thought that one out better."

"Please don't apologize for my stupidity," I said.

"You're not stupid," he said.

"Yo," I heard another voice in Freddie's room, a girl's, say. "Who are you talking to?"

"My friend," Freddie said. Exasperation or something close to it tinged his voice. "Where's Noah? Did he tell you to come get me?"

"No," the girl said. "I just heard you talking and wondered what was up."

"Penny, would you mind going back to Noah?" Freddie said.

No conversation followed. Just a sad noise and a closed door.

"You kicked a girl out of your room," I stated.

"Noah's annoying girlfriend," he said, almost too quickly.

I nodded even though he couldn't see it.

"I should go," I said. "Thanks. Again. But I should go talk to my Prof."


	20. Chapter 20

**AN:** It's almost my birthday!

So like apparently I'm very popular in Spanish speaking countries, or so my reviews and viewing stats tell me. Also I love Google translate haha. If ever you need a laugh look up Google Translate Sings: "How Far I'll Go" from Moana on YouTube. You will not regret it.

Anywayyyy... So I wrote that Valentine's Day dress thing a while ago and now as I read and write it, all I can think about is Dress by TSwizzle. So everyone who told me that YOU ARE NOT ALONE. Hahah

Onwards with the story!

Read, Review, and Enjoy :)

Open When...

You Need to Random Dance!

 **February**

"Anyway, I'm pretty sure they're having sex," Carly said.

I paused and ran through our conversation in my mind. I wasn't sure how we'd gone from the day she was coming home to sex.

"Carly," I said, looked up from the passage I was highlighting, put down my highlighter, and stared at her face on my laptop screen perched on top of the table. "I just really want to know how you made that jump. Like, you, of all people, confused about putting on the moves, and freaked out the first time she saw a dick. How did you decide this?"

"I internally freaked out," she said.

"Oh, I bet you did," I said and winked.

"No," she hung her head in her hands, face turning a bright shade of pink. "Not like that. I just didn't know what to do. I'd never seen one before except in science textbooks and it's so different in person and I didn't expect that!"

"You didn't expect it to look like a dick?"

"Okay," she said, pointing a finger. "You cannot tell me you weren't freaking out when you first saw Freddie."

I pursed my lips and thought back to the elevator. "No, actually, I didn't."

"Oh, come on, Sam!" she said. She pouted. "So what you just looked at it and, what, jumped?"

I applauded her technique. Ask me questions this way, the way where someone else feels kind of inadequate, and I might answer them.

"I didn't jump," I said. "Then, at least... I think you and Trevor planned whatever you guys did? Freddie and I just did it. Spur of the moment."

"So you didn't have time to think about it."

"I had lots of time to think about it after," I said. "I had a lot to think about then."

"Oh, yeah?" she asked. "Like what? Cause you guys broke up then?"

I'd somehow trapped myself. I wanted to make her feel like a weirdo when it came to sex. I wanted to, kind of, make her see that it wasn't as huge of a deal as she thought it was. I wanted to make her feel both good and bad, I guess? But I'd shown too much of my hand and said too much of the truth and now I had no choice but to be vulnerable.

"Because we weren't safe," I whispered and looked down at my textbook.

She stayed quiet for a moment. I didn't want to look at her face to see why.

"You mean..." she trailed off. "You mean, you guys didn't use protection?"

"Well, like, birth control is fucking expensive so I wouldn't be on it anyway," I said. "And when you don't expect something to happen, you're not going to be prepared. We didn't go into that elevator thinking we were going to have sex. But we did. No condom."

"Sam," she said. "Oh shit. Sam. I'm so sorry. I thought you were just sad when you guys broke up. You weren't just sad, were you?"

I laughed. "No, I wasn't just sad. Sad was a really big part of what I was, but I also freaked out for a good month every time I looked at Freddie until I got my period."

"Oh my God, Sam," she said. Her face was the entire screen when I looked up, as if she was trying to will herself into the room with me. "This is why you should tell me things! So you're not, like, freaking out."

I shrugged. "That's beside the point. Who's having sex and why do you think that?"

She bit her lip and shook her head.

"I don't really want to tell you now."

I rolled my eyes. Well, fuck.

"Who's Freddie fucking?" I deadpanned.

"That girl," Carly said, gesturing with her hands, trying to remember a name. She snapped her fingers. "Penny!"

I tried not to have a visible reaction.

"His roommate's girlfriend?"

Carly shook her head. "I don't think that's who she is."

"Why would he lie if he had a girlfriend?" I asked.

"I don't think she's his girlfriend," she said. "I think they're just having sex."

I laughed. "Why do you think that? That's not what Freddie does. Make him out to be some player that he's SO not."

"Well, look at it this way," she said. "Has Freddie ever had sex while he's been in a relationship?"

All emotion dropped from my face. My lips pursed and my eyes narrowed.

"What the fuck does that mean, Shay?" I said. "What're you calling me?"

"I'm not calling you anything," she said. "I know you have - or had - feelings for him, but I can't say that he did. He could have just been having sex."

I gritted my teeth. "You can't say that he did. Thanks for that."

"I don't mean it that way!" Carly said, throwing her hands up. "I just mean that you've told me things. He hasn't. Not about you, at least. You both are so damn secretive about your relationship that somehow I've managed to get more out of you than I have him."

"Rare," I said. "You can usually get anything out of him, can't you? Well if you're so sly and so good at reading Freddie, then why don't you just ask him who he's fucking?"

"You know I can't do that."

"Bullshit." I scoffed. "You've literally asked me, straight up, if I've had sex with Flynn, which, by the way, I haven't. So why can't you do that with him?"

She shrugged and turned red. "It's just different when you ask a guy that."

I scoffed. "Okay," I said. "Whatever you say."

"It is," she said.

"For sure," I deadpanned. She narrowed her eyes while I rolled mine.

"I'm not trying to antagonize you." She sighed. "I just -"

"Just what?" I asked. "You basically just told me that you don't think Freddie ever felt anything for me. What's that supposed to mean? How's that supposed to work?"

"I didn't mean it like that. You know I would never - I - you know I'm not -" Carly brought her hands to her face, ran them over her cheeks, then covered her eyes. Tears formed at the edges and she furiously wiped them away before they fell. "I'm sorry."

I swallowed and rolled my shoulders. I closed my eyes. The black behind my closed lids gave me something to focus on. Dark. Calm. I took a breath and opened my eyes.

"It's fine," I said. It wasn't.

"Okay, good." She smiled. "Really. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to come off that way, I really didn't. I won't mention it again."

I wanted to tell her that that wasn't the problem. That I didn't care if she mentioned Freddie or Penny or whoever the fuck he might be getting his dick wet with. I'd resolved myself to being okay with whoever he chose to go out with... Or have sex with. I just didn't want, never want, to have someone question the time Freddie and I spent together.

"It's fine," I repeated. I made an effort to smile back at her. "I have to finish this, Carls. I'll call you later."

"Right," she said. "I should sleep, anyway. Night, Sam!"

"Night!"

The screen flickered off and I let my groan fill the walls of my apartment. I closed my laptop and pushed myself away from the table. I needed something to release this stupid energy. I thought about taking a shower and screaming or running down the streets of New York and screaming. Whatever I did, I wanted to be screaming.

I flopped down on my bed, put a pillow over my face and screamed. It didn't help.

So I opened a letter. Somehow, it always comes back to the letters. My supply, dwindling, only a few littered the bottom of the box, but I still found the one I needed.

"Open When... You Need to Random Dance."

I could random dance and scream.

I ripped open the bright blue envelope and a photograph slid out. The boxy, plastic, iCarly remote laid on the tech cart in the photo. I squinted at it, confused, then turned over the glossy picture to find a note.

"Dear Sam,

"If I could send you the remote, I would, but since I program it, it wouldn't do much anyway. So here's your very own remote! Whenever you feel the need to random dance, get out this picture, turn on some music, and dance your ass off!"

I threw the picture on my bed, kicked the box of envelopes back under my bed, and stumbled my way back to the kitchen table. I fumbled around on Spotify until I found the perfect dance playlist. My fingers hovered over the mousepad, ready to click play, ready to turn up the volume, when someone knocked at my door. I groaned, but yanked it open anyway.

A grin formed on my face where a grimace once was.

"Hey, handsome," I said, getting a toothy, Flynn grin in response. "Wanna have a dance party?"


	21. Chapter 21

AN: Thanks for some more Flynn hate y'all haha. Bring on some more! I'm oddly sad because I can no longer say that I'm feeling 22 :( but I'll get over it.

SO here's the deal: I have 100 chapters planned out for this story and 27 of them take place during their first year of university. So I have 6 chapters left after this one until year one is done. I've been thinking that once I reach chapter 27, I'm going to take a break from posting for a bit so I can get a HUGE chunk of writing done for this so that there's not a ridiculous amount of wait time between chappys. 2017 was a bad writing year (and just year in general) for me, and I'm trying everything in my power to not have another year like that. And so far, I'm actually doing better haha. So for now, look forward to the 6 remaining first year chapters, and for later, look forward to the rest!

Happy Easter, y'all!

Read, Review, and Enjoy! :)

Open When...

You Need A Hug

 **March**

"I can't even look at you right now!" I screamed. "I need you to leave. Just looking at your face is pissing me off. Please, get the hell out of my apartment."

Flynn laughed. "Wow," he said. "That's really, really nice of you, Sam. You sure know how to make a guy feel good."

I clenched my jaw and tried to make all 5 foot two inches of my body seem intimidating.

"Get. Out."

"This is so fucking ridiculous," he said. "I didn't do anything wrong. You're making this into something way bigger than it actually is."

"Flynn, leave," I said and stormed to the door. I yanked it open so hard that it hit the wall.

He looked between the door and me, but stayed rooted to his spot.

"You've got to be joking."

"Leave," I screeched.

"Tell me. Explain to me. Use your fucking words and tell me what I did wrong."

I steeled myself. I ran my hands over my face, then balled them at my sides.

"I shouldn't have to explain to you what you did. You know exactly what you did and you're just being an asshole by not admitting it."

He shook his head and snickered. "It's guy talk, babe."

"Babe..." I muttered. I hated babe.

"What would you rather me call you? Dear? Hun? Sweet cheeks?"

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind something clicked and my body had a violent reaction to "sweet cheeks". I repressed my gag response and whatever memory I was having. I swallowed, slouched, turned away from him, and grabbed the doorframe.

"Please, just go away," I whispered.

His hands were on my arms, gripping hard, wrenching me away from the door to face him, before I even heard him move. A noise of protest rose in my throat, but never came out. I closed my eyes, remembered the Sweet Cheeks Guy. My mother's boyfriend. I was 13. He called me Sweet Cheeks anytime she wasn't around. I avoided the house, and him, as much as I could, but when my mom started noticing my absence for once in my whole fucking life, I had to go home. I had to go home and witness their fights, watch them vehemently kick, scratch, punch, and tackle each other to the ground, see their dysfunction framed on the movie set of my life and pray that I wasn't next. A butter sock and a locked door can only do so much.

"Are - are you crying?" Flynn asked. He dropped my arm, red marks appearing where his fingers once were.

I stared at the fading marks on my skin and thought of my mom's bruises. Anger bubbled in my stomach and turned my tears hot. I braced my hands against Flynn's chest and pushed as hard as I could.

"Get out. Now," I stated, keeping my eyes level on him as he stumbled backwards.

He caught his balance and stared at me. I couldn't read the emotion on his face. His mouth, eyes, eyebrows - they were all void, empty, neutral, but altered somehow. I'd never seen him look this way before. I'd never pushed him before, but he'd also never touched me like that either.

"Go."

The word broke him and he advanced toward me in three quick steps, his hand rising in the air, winding back. I flinched before he even hit me, thinking of how I'd hide my bruises, just like mom did. And then, nothing.

I opened my eyes to find him standing, staring, mouth open, arms at his sides. My body was angled away from him, crouched slightly, muscles tense.

"I - I - I've never. I wouldn't have done anything. I - I'm so sor - I have to go."

I watched him walk out of the apartment and slam the door. I stared at the white doorframe that had been holding me up. I imagined the marks my fingers could have made on the wood, if wood were as fragile as skin.

My feet backed up until I hit a wall and I slid down. For the first time in years, I brought my knees up to my chest and sobbed. The clock on my wall ticked, echoing off the walls of my apartment as silent tears fell down my cheeks. Hard as I tried, my body wouldn't make a sound, just tears. Just violent, jarring, breathtaking tears that didn't stop for nearly half an hour.

Through blurred eyes, I crawled to my bedside and pulled the box out from under my bed. I wasn't sure what I was looking for. Comfort, maybe? A familiar face or, I guess, printing? There weren't many left. Maybe five and most were oddly specific. The last I pulled was the one I needed most and unfortunately, the one I wasn't physically going to get.

"Open When You Need A Hug."

I ran my fingernail along the seam of the envelope and tried to steady my shaky breaths. The sobs had left me gasping for air in their wake. A slip of paper fell out of the envelope, along with a small package of Hershey's Hugs.

"Sam," read the slip of paper. "I wish someone could be there to give you a hug, but chocolate is the next best thing. Freddie."

I stared at the package of Hugs on the floor and my stomach tightened. There wasn't anything that those little chocolates could do for me. I felt my chin shake as I tried to hold back more tears.

 _Stop it, Sam, you're not this weak._

I'm not.

I can't be.

I balled my hands into fists and laid my head back against the side of the bed. I closed my eyes and tried to make myself think of anything else. Anyone else. But my thoughts swirled around all the men that my mother brought into my life and made me this way. All the men who pushed their limits and towed the lines and never for one minute let me live my life the way a young girl is supposed to. The sob built in my chest and I let it out.

I don't know how long I let myself ugly cry. The only thing that broke me from my revelry was my phone. A specific ringtone for a specific person. The last person I wanted to talk to right now because I didn't want him to hear me.

I swallowed, grabbed my phone, and answered. "Hello," I said. My voice quivered and broke on the last syllable. If he noticed, he didn't say anything.

"Hey, Sam," said Freddie. "I have a question for you."

I groaned. "What makes you think I have time to answer it?"

"Oh," he said and paused. "Well, you answered the phone."

"Yes, because I know if I didn't you would text me a million and one fucking times to make sure I'm not dead."

Silence.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I laughed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"Because you're snapping at me," he said. "And ... I haven't really done anything."

"You called."

He clicked his tongue. "Okay. True. But can I ask you a question?"

"What's the question?"

"It's about theatre. I'm trying to prove a point that -"

"Why don't you just look it up?" I asked. I rolled my eyes and stopped myself from throwing my phone across the room. "Google is much easier than me."

He snickered. "Duly noted. Are you sure I can't ask? It'd settle an argument. See Penny thought that -"

"Penny?" I snapped. "Fuck."

I heard him shift on the other end of the line. A creak of leather couch moving with a person's weight. He sighed, said something muffled to the room as he covered his phone, and then footsteps. A door closed.

"Are you okay?" he asked, after I assume he was behind his closed door.

"No," I answered. I heard him gasp, or make some sort of breathy noise of surprise. It was probably the first time I had ever outright admitted to him that I wasn't fine, so I added, "But what else is new?"

"I - Sam, what's up?" he asked.

"Nothing," I mumbled.

"This Flynn guy that you're dating, is he -"

"Because a boy is the only possible reason I'm upset, right?"

"No," he said. "I didn't mean it like that. I know you're a really complex person, I just thought - I just... you know, maybe something was up. I don't know. I just think - I don't know - it just never seems like you're happy with him."

"Stutter much?" I muttered.

He said nothing. He waited for me to continue to insult him or continue to explain myself, but I didn't. I had nothing to justify. I wasn't going to tell him why I was upset. I wasn't going to tell him what almost happened with Flynn. I wasn't going to make him feel like he's right.

I shouldn't have answered the phone.

I sighed and pushed myself up. I sat down on my bed and crossed my legs over each other. Freddie shifted on the other end of the line.

"Look," I said, finally with control over my voice. "You don't have to stay on the phone with me. I'm fine. I'm just stressed out."

"Okay," he said, but it came out as more of a question.

"What?" I hissed.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"You just said you weren't-"

"Nothing."

"Sam," he said. I didn't respond. "Okay, Sam, if you're not going to say anything, then I can't make you. You'd tell me if it was anything big, right?"

I sighed. "Yeah, sure."

"Okay," he said. "I guess."

I debated hanging up. I pulled the phone away from my ear and let my finger hover over my screen, but something came over me and I spoke.

"Who the hell is Penny?" I asked.

"Noah's girlfriend?"

"You sound so certain about that," I muttered.

He liked her. I was sure. If there's one thing I know about Freddie, it's when he likes people. Well, except when he likes me. He's always so easy to read except for when it comes to me.

"I'm not, actually," he said and sighed. "Noah's bringing around other girls still and she's been here a few times when he's disappeared with one. I feel like they're not dating, they're just having sex. Or they're just friends. I don't know."

"And you like her," I stated.

"I don't know," he said.

"How do you not know?"

He sighed again. Dreamy, confused Freddie was my least favourite kind of Freddie. Over the summer at Great Wolf Lodge, Freddie was smitten with a girl who worked at the cabana with me. She was short and cute, but wild. One of those innocent looking girls that you knew was anything but. By the end of the summer he was over her and we almost ...

"I just feel like it'd be weird to like her when Noah was with her at one point," he said. "Plus, she's like, the opposite of every girl I've ever liked."

"There's literally no pattern in the girls you like," I stated.

"That's not true," he said. "But she's different."

I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. Not literally. But my soul hurt. She's different. That shitty way boys describe girls when they're totally in love and want to put everyone else down.

"Kay," I said.

"Sam, can I ask you something? It's just something I've been thinking about and something I've been worried about."

"Is it what you were going to ask me originally? Because I swear to God I'm not settling a fuckin-"

"No," he said. "You don't seem happy when you talk about Flynn. It reminds me of how your mom used to talk about her boyfriends. I just- I guess, I wonder if you're falling into the same pattern as her. I hope not. You're so much better than douchebags like that, Sam."

A chill ran through my body and I stiffened. I didn't know what the answer to that question was. I didn't know myself. I sniffed.

"I have to go, Freddie."

"Yeah, okay," he said. "No worries. Be careful, okay?"

"Okay," I whispered and hung up the phone.

I threw my phone onto the floor in front of me. I stared at the unopened package of Hugs, reached for it, and ripped into it. I ate the chocolate.


	22. Chapter 22

**AN** : I'm back!

Happy Father's Day, y'all!

Also I know absolutely no professors at Juilliard so any I mention are just random characters I've made up. Peace!

Read, Review, and Enjoy!

Open When...

You Get A Good Mark

 **March**

I woke up to incessant banging on the door to my apartment.

7:00am.

I ran a hand over my face and threw the covers off of my body. My pyjama shorts hung off my hips, exposing my unshaven legs, while Freddie's MIT shirt masked my upper body.

I yanked open the door.

"Ashley!" I said, shocked at her grinning, all-too-excited face.

"Sam!" she said and pushed past me into the apartment.

I raised my eyebrows. She was too chipper for this early in the morning. I closed the door a headed to my kitchen. If I had to be up, I was at least making coffee.

"Aren't you cold?" she asked.

"What?" I asked as I pulled two mugs I'd stolen from the cafeteria down from the cupboard.

Ashley took a mug from the counter and studied it. "This is a really nice mug. Looks like the ones at -"

"Shh," I said and put a finger to my lips. She laughed. I rolled my eyes. "So why are you here and fully dressed and happy at 7 in the morning on a Saturday?"

"Did you check your email?" she asked. "Sara sent out the marks!"

I trained my gaze on the coffee maker. Sara Juniper, our professor for Women in Theatre, for some weird reason, actually liked me. When I failed the midterm for her course, she allowed me to do extra credit in order to make up the mark. Extra credit that I somehow managed to get a 96% on. But I still froze up whenever she was mentioned, because I still thought that the rug would be pulled out from under me and she'd suddenly decide to hate me.

And maybe this assignment was the one where her hate came in full force.

"I haven't checked yet," I said and poured the coffee into my mug, then hers. "I just got up."

"Oh!" she said. "I'm sorry! Did I wake you?"

I narrowed my eyes and ran a hand through my hair. "What do you think?"

"My bad! I was just excited and wanted to celebrate with someone."

"Celebrating would involve a good mark," I muttered.

"Do you not think you did well?"

I shrugged, put my mug down, and crossed the room to my bedside table. My phone laid facedown on the pale oak. I turned it over to find a text from Ashley, Flynn, Freddie, and Carly.

"I'm popular today," I mumbled.

"What?" Ashley said.

I shook my head and sifted through the texts.

Ashley: _Hey, girl im coming over let me in pls_. 6:58am

Flynn: _Good morning beautiful :)_ 7:01am

Freddie: _I know you stole my shirt, Sam. I just want it back. I need it for a picture me and my roommates are taking_. 7:06am

Carly: _Why do you still have Freddie's shirt and why is he texting me about it_? 7:11am

I made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a groan. Ashley raised her eyebrows.

"I took Freddie's shirt and he wants it back," I quickly explained.

I shifted away from my texts and opened my Juilliard email. Sure enough, a message from Sara was there. Two messages, actually.

"Are you two dating?" Ashley asked as I clicked on Sara's email.

"What?" My eyes snapped to hers.

"You and Freddie," she said slowly. "I mean, I know you're dating Flynn, I think. You guys had that fight and then made up and then fought again, but I'm pretty sure you made up. But you're, like, wearing the MIT shirt and, I dunno, I feel like it's a bit weird to wear a dude's shirt when you're not super close with him. I totally wouldn't judge you if you're also dating Freddie and if-"

"No," I said.

"No?"

"No. No, I'm not dating Freddie."

"Then why are you wearing his shirt?" she asked. Her slow, deliberate tone made me feel as though the question was more for herself than it was for me.

Ashley's love life was lacklustre. Always had been. I always had a hard time understanding why she was still single. She's gorgeous. Her hair's always perfectly straight and perfectly shined. Her grey cat eyes are the most unique things I've ever seen. And she's bubbly and happy and excitable... But maybe a bit too much of a romantic. Ashley understood boys as they were in romance novels and romcoms. Unrealistic.

"I like oversized shirts," I stated.

She narrowed her eyes. Yeah, I didn't believe that answer either.

"Okay," she said, slow again. "I just feel like that's not true, but okay."

"Even if I felt anything different it's not like I could do anything."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm dating Flynn and Freddie's probably fucking someone."

"Probably?"

"This cute little pixie girl. She has pink hair. Apparently she's been getting with all his roommates."

I tried to sound nonchalant and not let that bug me. Honestly, the fact that she had pink hair bugged me the most. I questioned why she chose to dye her hair that way. Probably to stand out. Probably to go with her "manic pixie dreamgirl" vibes.

I looked down at my phone to avoid the conversation, but Ashley stopped me. She placed a hand overtop of mine.

"Sam," she said and waited until I looked up to continue. "Tell me honestly, are you in love with Freddie?"

I stared at her. Debated lying and pretending.

"Yes."

"Oh," she said.

"Oh?"

"I honestly wasn't expecting you to say that. You're not very forthcoming with information, especially when it's about feelings."

"Yeah," I said and closed my eyes. I wanted to take back my words because I knew she was going to ask.

"So why are you with Flynn?"

"I can't be with Freddie."

"Why not?"

Because he doesn't love me. Because he's sleeping with someone else. Because he hates me. Because I'm just a friend or just a lay or just... Just.

I shook my head.

"Can we talk about something else?"

Ashley sighed. "Yeah, okay."

I glanced down at my phone and opened the first email from Sara.

"Hi Sam," it read.

"Sending marks out for the first part of the end of semester assignment. I wish I had better news, but I don't. The work was subpar, the research was very minimal, and it appears as though there was no proofing. I'm disappointed, but I can't do much if you're not doing much. So unfortunately, I'm going to have to give you a 53% on this part of the assignment. Hopefully you can pull it up with part two.

"All the best,

"Sara."

My mouth dropped open. That can't be right. I researched the shit out of that assignment. I spent 3 days on it instead of doing it last minute the night it was due. I got Freddie, Carly, Flynn, Spencer, Ashley, and Freddie, again, to proof it. It was a good piece. It did not deserve a shit mark for all my effort.

"What'd you get?"

I didn't answer. I didn't know what to say.

Ashley probably got in the 90s. She always did. She's smart and put together and surprising in all aspects. I've never once seen her worried about her grades or an assignment. She always shrugs and smiles when someone complains. It's unnerving, yet somehow helpful.

Brush it off. It's not the end of the world.

That's what I imagine she's thinking every time any sort of stressor comes through.

But it's easy to do that when you're smart and put together and know what the fuck you're doing.

Everything in my life was messy while hers was so perfectly fit like a puzzle.

"Sam?" she said.

I looked up. Her brows crinkled and mouth slightly open. I could see concern shining in her eyes.

"Shit," I said. "I did pretty shit."

"No way!" she said. "I read your thing. It was such a good topic and your writing style is amazing. Carly read it before me and got all the grammar errors too. I can't believe you did badly. Are you just judging yourself too hard?"

"No. I got a 53%."

She gasped. "That's a pity pass. Oh my God, let me see the email!"

I passed over my phone. Her lips pursed as she read, then her eyes narrowed. She opened, then closed her mouth, then, suddenly, smiled.

"Sam," she said. "Read the second email!"

She slid my phone across the counter and I picked it up. Right. Sara sent two emails. I clicked on the other email and was met with all capital letters.

"SAM!" it read.

"I AM SO SO SORRY! I SENT YOU THE WRONG MARK!

"I don't know how it happened, but I transposed two of the marks. I am so sorry if the previous email ruined your day. This is so embarrassing for me and even more embarrassing for me to have to email my other student who ACTUALLY received the 53.

"Sam, your mark is a 94% and for this mix up, I've bumped you up two percent to a 96%. Your work was BEAUTIFUL and truly a pleasure to read. I am so sorry for the mix up. Please keep up the good work you're doing!

"All the best,

"Sara."

I stared at the email. I reread it 5 times. To let it sink in. Fuck. And then I started laughing. Laughing as though something in me had snapped and this was the most hilarious thing that could have ever possibly happened.

"Holy shit," I muttered after catching my breath. "I think my heart stopped then restarted."

"I'm so happy for you!" Ashley said. "See! I knew it was great. We should celebrate!"

"It's so early."

"Let's do breakfast and celebrate, then! I'll let you get dressed and I'll come back in like half an hour. Sound good?"

I nodded and she left. I danced around my room in a daze, shocked, surprised, and so incredibly happy. I needed the random dance button, but I only had that picture Freddie gave me in that letter.

I danced anyway.

And then I hit my foot on the edge of my bed while pulling a pair of jeans out of my dresser and fell. I hit the floor with a loud bound.

"Shit!" I said and rubbed my foot and butt. I laughed. That was great.

Freddie's box peaked out from beneath my bed and I bent forward to reach it. The once heavy box was now light as a feather. I only had a few weeks left to open the rest. I sifted through until I found one that applied.

"Open When... You Get A Good Mark"

I opened the envelope and all that fell out was a $20 gift card to Menchies. On the card case was one simple phrase: "Congratulations! You deserve this!"

Hell yeah, I deserve this.

I kicked the box back under my bed and stood. I grabbed my jeans and a shirt, and placed my brand new gift card that I totally intended to use today on the counter next to my phone. My phone was ringing. I glanced at the screen and rolled my eyes.

"Tell you what, Fredward," I answered. "I'll give you back your shirt if you proofread all of my assignments from now on."


End file.
